


The Court of Love

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Angel!Michael, Angst, Attempted Murder, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Sam, Cambion!Sam, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Forbidden/Unethical Relationships, Hand Jobs, Law Stuff!, Lawyers AU, M/M, Magic, Public Defender!Sam, Public Sex, Rivals to Lovers, Sam is called Samuel, Sam wears leather gloves and it’s hot okay, Smut, Speciesism, The Three Basic Food Groups of Fanfic, Top!Michael, Top!Sam, bottom!Michael, explicit content, getting caught, here there be sex, prosecutor!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 51,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: As the Grand Prosecutor and an Angel of the White Feathers, the courtroom was where Michael reigned supreme after the Collusion of Heaven, Hell, and Earth. No one dared to challenge the war veteran, until a new public defender, a young Cambion with everchanging eyes and a fearlessness about him came around and made him enter the court of love. Michael is thrust into a new world of learning, where he is taught about prejudice and the glaring loopholes that are presented to Samuel and his kind when it comes to the legal system.
Relationships: Michael/Sam Winchester
Comments: 106
Kudos: 65





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY RARE PAIRS ROCK MEGA BANG!!! I AM SO HAPPY THAT IT'S NOW DONE AND UPLOADING AND HAPPY AND BEAUTIFUL!!!
> 
> Huge Thanks to my Betas @mrsimoshen and @trisscar368!!! 
> 
> Also huge thanks to @talkmagically, aka the mod for this bang, because she completely understood that I had to post a day late.

_ Many eons ago, Heaven, Hell, and Earth combined, forcing Angels, Humans, Demons to live in a coerced harmony. A hierarchy was established, with Angels at the top and Humans at the bottom. The lowest Angel was worth more than the highest Demon, and even the lowest Demon was worth more than the highest Human. But at the bottom were the  _ Lo-Zhang, _ or the crossbreeds.  _ Lo-Zhang  _ were the absolute lowest due to their mixed breed. Crossbreeding happened, but was highly frowned upon in the higher echelons of each race, as it was seen as ‘dirty’ and ‘unclean’, oftentimes citing purity reasons for this specism. The  _ Lo-Zhang  _ were the most persecuted and were often forced into the worst jobs. Those lucky enough to be considered good by Human standards, as Humans will pack bond with anything, were often murdered at a young age by Angels and Demons; many in the elite of those races consider this a rite of passage into adulthood, called the  _ go-nach.

_ At this point in history the Collusion, as the joining of the three realms was called, happened eons ago and the prejudices run deep, although by this point, the  _ Lo-Zhang _ have mostly equal rights to the rest. Angels and Demons never forget history, as they managed to keep their immortal or close-to-it lifespan.  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael of the White Feathers meets Samuel of the House of Campbell, a Cambion who dares to defy the odds

Michael of the White Feathers, a member of the Angel Elite and  _ the _ Grand Prosecutor, swept into the Grand Courtroom. He had a day full of prosecutions against a public defender, which for him would be an easy day. Public defenders were terrified of him, and with good reason. Michael was a Prince of Heaven and would rule if he hadn't decided to protect the sanctity of law and prejudice. The Grand Courtroom was his battleground, and he was the General. No one dared oppose him. Why would they? It was suicidal. And for a public defender? Even more so. 

Did that mean sometimes innocent Angels, Demons, Humans and  _ Lo-Zhangs _ went to prison? Of course. Did he care? Only marginally. If only they didn’t have spineless cowards for their attorney -- but unfortunately, they all did. Useless moldy bags of sauerkraut is what they were. Michael thrived on winning, but it’d be nice to lose occasionally.He straightened his tie as he took his place behind his table to the left of the courtroom. To his surprise, the public defender was already there. He couldn't tell the man's race, although he wasn't an Angel. That was easy enough. 

“All Rise for the Judge!” said the Bailiff, a Demon that Michael never bothered to get the name of. He was a Demon of the Black, good for brute force and smarmy. Michael disliked him.

The only impartial judge, Death himself, made his way up, scythe in hand, and Michael and the public defender stood up with the rest of the crowd, looking straight ahead like soldiers. Michael tried to get a peek at the public defender  _ du jour,  _ but kept his eyes forward out of respect.

“Prosecution, please state your name for the record.” 

“I am Michael of the White Feathers, an Angel of the highest order and the Grand Prosecutor,” Michael announced to the courtroom as the audience sat down. He wasn’t sure  _ why  _ there was an audience. They all knew he’d win the cases today. 

“Defense, please state your name for the record.” 

“I am Samuel, second son of Mary of the House of Campbell, a  _ Lo-Zhang _ of Cambion origin and a public defender.” The voice was loud, clear, and with a smoothness to it. 

A hush fell over the crowd and the Demon leading the proceedings looked at the public defender. So did Michael. No Lo-Zhang had made it this far before, and if they did, they certainly never announced it publicly. Those very few who would announce it publicly would never cite whether they were Nephilim, Cambion, or Emprysal. Now that he could look at the man, he could barely tell. The only difference was that his eyes swirled like clouds, changing colors. Michael knew he was at least half Human. He was tall, much taller than even Michael’s own brother, with long chestnut hair and tanned skin. He wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a red, white, and blue striped tie. His features were more angular, perhaps giving way to either Angel or Demon heritage, but the hands - another indicator - were covered with thick, black leather gloves.

“Campbell is your mother's name,” the Demon said, obviously trying to be kind and insulting the  _ Lo-Zhang _ in the process. “Perhaps you meant-” 

‘“I know what I said, Bailiff,” Samuel said, cutting the Demon off and fixing him with a cool gaze. “The man I call Father is not my blood. John of the House of Winchester is Human. My mother, Mary of the House of Campbell, had been assaulted and raped by Azazel of the Yellow Eyes. I am a  _ Lo-Zhang _ , and I am not displeased with my heritage itself, only in the manner in which it was thrust upon me.” 

Michael was very mildly impressed by this  _ Lo-Zhang _ . He had courage, fire and grit. It would be interesting to argue the finer points of law with him. If only to see how this Samuel kept up. 

“Maybe we shouldn't have you go against-” the Demon seemed to be digging himself a deeper hole, for Samuel’s eyes flashed copper. 

“Just because I was forced to be created doesn't mean I am any less capable of doing this job,” Samuel snapped. “Ranking amongst the races is asinine and shouldn't matter. I respect the Grand Prosecutor, and I am honored that I am allowed to be able to defend against him. Even if that respect isn't returned.” The storm in his eyes calmed. Michael could tell that the rage was beneath his skin, however, and Samuel bared his teeth. Large incisors dropped forward and into a point, something only Demons from the higher ranks had. Samuel was definitely created by a member of the Yellow. “Perhaps, you should bring out my first client and we can stop treating me as though my mother dropped me on my head when I was an infant. Which she did not, but it’s entirely possible that you were.” 

“Your Honor!” the Demon shouted in alarm and pomposity. “I demand that this  _ Lo-Zhang _ be bound by law at once!” 

Michael rolled his eyes. He’s not sure that he wouldn’t have responded in the same way as Samuel, and it was clear that the Bailiff only wanted to assert some method of dominance over a lower ranked individual. 

“For what crime?” Death asked in a bored tone. “The second son of the House of Campbell has a valid point.” 

Michael looked over at Samuel. The young  _ Lo-Zhang _ seemed determined. If there was any nervousness, the Angel could not sense it. The eyes were calm, the jaw was set, and he had a mess of folders in front of him. He was obviously hardworking, and might, just might, give Michael a run for his money.

“Bring out the first case.” Death’s command was soft, with no room to be disobeyed.

“Ruby. Demon of the Black. Accused of vile prostitution of Humans and  _ Lo-Zhang _ to Demons.” The Bailiff announced almost sullenly, and the petite form of Ruby stepped forward from where the accused were kept until their cases were called. 

“Prosecution?” 

“To the extent of the law,” Michael said, “Ruby should be punished for her crime of vile prostitution.” He didn’t look at her case file. He didn’t need to. Public defenders wilt at his voice.

“Defense?” 

“Perhaps we can bring into discussion why Ruby is being charged with ‘vile’ prostitution of Humans and  _ Lo-Zhang _ , which is a felony,” Samuel said, “and not just merely prostitution, which is a misdemeanor. Ruby does not deny in her statements to law enforcement that she had a prostitution business, nor that it was being run without a license. Section-” there was a rustling of papers as Samuel looked for a very specific piece of paper- “2698 states that ‘vile’ prostitution is defined as ‘any prostitution that is considered unnatural’.” He looked up at the face of Death. “With all due respect, unless not all information was given to me, her attorney, and therefore violating the Seventh Act of the Articles of Constitutional Contrition in not allowing me to provide her with proper legal advice, Ruby should be charged with only the misdemeanor of running a prostitution business without a license and to pay a fine and serve a year of probation. At the end of the year of probation, she would qualify for the application of a prostitution license for her employees.” 

A hush fell over the crowd as Michael looked at Samuel, impressed that the  _ Lo-Zhang _ took a chance in actually defending his client. 

Suddenly, a whoop of excitement was heard from the back of the courtroom. There was nervous laughter and Samuel threw a scowl behind him. Obviously someone Samuel knew. 

“Considering the argument the Defense put up,” Death said, sounding a little more awake than normal, “Prosecution?” 

Michael had to scramble for an argument.  _ At last, a challenge. _ “The Prosecution would like to bring to mind Section 1264, which states that a member of law enforcement can charge anyone with the crime that they feel fits the bill.” 

“Section 1268,” Samuel said, before the judge could speak, “requires law enforcement to provide evidence proving the reason for the charge, or that they will be facing criminal charges themselves. There is no evidence that I currently have that proves ‘vile’ prostitution.” 

Oh,  _ good. _ Michael could feel a smile trying to work its way onto his impassive face. Most public defenders forgot that section, which was why there were innocent people in jail due to Michael. If they don’t have a proper defense, then that’s their problem. Of course, as Grand Prosecutor, he’d always thought this way. 

“Michael?” 

“The Prosecution rests.” 

“Samuel?”    
“The Defense rests.” 

“Seeing as Samuel is correct in the lack of evidence, I charge and convict Miss Ruby, a Demon of the Black, of operating a prostitution business without a license. She will pay a five thousand dollar fine and be on probation for one year, at the end of which she can apply for a license.” The gavel banged and Ruby hugged Samuel before being led away, the crowd murmuring amongst themselves. 

Michael could feel himself growing excited. Someone dared challenge him. It felt good. He looked over at the  _ Lo-Zhang _ , who was filing Ruby’s file away and out of sight before the next case. 

_ Let’s see if you can keep up, Samuel. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel talk after their first day in court together.

Michael packed up his briefcase and walked over to the table where the  _ Lo-Zhang _ was packing up. Court had adjourned for the day, and Michael did not win all of his cases. In fact, he lost most of them, with Samuel either getting the charges dropped completely or reduced to much lesser charges. 

“Good work today,” Michael said. 

Samuel looked up and gave a sardonic smile. “You sound genuine,” he said, a note of surprise and suspicion in his voice. 

Michael blinked before arching a brow. 

“Sorry,” Samuel said sheepishly while also not sounding very apologetic at the same time. “Most of the time, that’s said in a sarcastic way, or in a way that implies it was good work ‘for my species’.” He rolled his ever changing eyes and shrugged. 

Michael nodded, understanding but unable to empathize. “Did the government prank you in taking me on today?” he asked. 

“They did, but I prepared beforehand,” Samuel said, hoisting the brown leather messenger bag over his shoulder. “Not to mention that I’m not easily scared. Not even by you.” 

Michael felt his feathers, hidden from view for the moment, rustle angrily at that. How dare he not be afraid of the former Prince of Heaven?! “Oh?” he asked mildly instead. “Yet, you respect me.” 

“I respect your position,” Samuel clarified as he began walking out of the courtroom. “You, personally, well,” he cast a smirk, a fang poking out of his top lip tauntingly, “let us just say that the jury is still out on that.” 

“You are a brave little one,” Michael said, following Samuel out of the courtroom. “One would say reckless.” 

“To live in fear is to have no life at all,” Samuel said. “I have experienced things that you will never have the misfortune to endure. And at the end of the day, Prince of Heaven, you are nothing more than an Angel.” His eyes were flashing the color of a sea after a storm, and Michael was drawn to them. “You are of the Elite. You are  _ the  _ Grand Prosecutor. But we all have the same wants, needs, and desires, despite species.” The smirk turned into a daring grin. “I may be a  _ Lo-Zhang _ , but I am not to be underestimated, Michael of the White Feathers. To underestimate is to lose.” 

“For one so young,” Michael murmured, stepping into his personal space, “you have a lot of wisdom, Samuel of the House of Campbell.” 

Samuel’s laugh was low, rough, with a note of brightness to it. “My Sire may’ve been a rapist, but he wasn’t unintelligent,” he said. “The courts ruled incorrectly in my mother’s case and Azazel was granted unsupervised visitations. He taught me a great many things, and my father was a wise man in and of himself.” His eyes were now sunglow amber. 

“Your eyes,” Michael said softly. “Have they always done that?” 

“A funny thing happens when a  _ Lo-Zhang _ is created,” Samuel said, “Something gets damaged. For Cambions or Nephilim, it’s typically the eyes if the Demon or the Angel is of a high enough level. Considering that Demons of the Yellow are just under Demons of the White and just above Demons of the Knight, mine ended up like this. They react to my moods, but they never stop changing.”

Michael did not know this information. How did he not? “You can see, though?” he asked. 

“Fortunately, yes,” Samuel said. “My vision is not the best, but I can always boost it with a little help from my abilities. I’m lucky. Most  _ Lo-Zhangs _ are born blind and have no ability to boost.” The eyes shifted to a deep, rich blue. “How can you pass judgement over so many individuals,” he asked, “and not know a thing about the people whose fates you decide?”

“Is it important?” Michael asked. “The law is the law.” 

“The concept of total legalism is bullshit,” Samuel snorted. “The law must be obeyed, I agree, but for many people who aren’t an Angel or a Demon, the laws are applied more harshly. You may think you’re treating everyone fairly, but I can guarantee you’re not.” Eyes now a dark pink, a dangerous smile danced on Samuel’s lips as he spoke. “As much as I would love to debate the moralities of the legal system with you,” he said, “I do have an engagement to be getting to.” He held out a black leather gloved hand. “Thank you for your kind words, it was an honor defending against you today.” 

Michael looked down at the hand with an arched brow. “Cold hands?” he asked sardonically. 

“Let’s go with that,” Samuel said. 

Michael shook firmly and Samuel smiled, fangs coming out. They weren’t as long as they had been when he had snarled at the Bailiff. 

“Have a pleasant week, Samuel,” Michael said. 

“And I wish the same unto you,” Samuel replied, withdrawing his hand. He turned and walked three steps before disappearing like a mist of perfume dissipating into the air. 

Michael watched and sighed heavily. He had some research to do, it seemed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael does some research on Samuel

Michael sighed as he brought his keyboard to him. He cracked his knuckles. The conversation with Samuel had intrigued him and research, covert research, was the way to go. 

First he typed in Samuel’s name.  _ Samuel of the House of Campbell. _

The first results come up with Samuel’s grandfather, who was a Human hunter that specialized in Angels and Demons that had escaped from institutions. A bit like a bounty hunter, from the sound of it. He was very good at it, and held a lot of sway in the communities before his untimely death over two decades ago. Michael read through the articles before typing in  _ Samuel of the Yellow Eyes. _

More articles immediately popped up, the first one from that day. 

**WHO IS SAMUEL OF THE YELLOW EYES?**

Michael had no interest in that and quickly altered his search results to allow it to be from when Samuel was born. 

**RAPE OR CONSENT? HUMAN VERSUS DEMON**

Michael frowned at that headline and began reading. 

_ Mary of the House of Campbell stands accusing Azazel of the Yellow Eyes of first degree rape. Azazel says that it was consensual. Mary has become pregnant as a result of this union, and she wants justice to be served.  _

_ “I want my child to know where they come from, what they are,” she is quoted as saying, “and I want them to know that their mother did everything in her power to protect them - and herself.”  _

_ Demon-human relations aren’t uncommon, and Azazel’s higher standing in the community may turn disastrous in terms of the outcome that Mary wishes to see.  _

_ Mary of the House of Campbell is married to John of the House of Winchester and has already borne one child, Dean of the House of Winchester, aged 4. John is livid that something “horrid” has happened to his wife, and has vowed vengeance upon Azazel. However, he has conceded that no matter what, he will raise the child as his own.  _

_ “A person doesn’t choose their parentage,” he says. “What I can hope to do is love this child as my own, and show him that family does not end or begin with blood, and that you can choose your family.”  _

Michael leaned back, pondering. He agreed with John. You can choose family, but you can’t choose your blood. It was an interesting concept, and he was glad that Samuel had at least one positive male role model. He continued to read on. 

_ When asked about his new sibling, little Dean of the House of Winchester said it best, wrapping his arms the best he could around his mother.  _

_ “He’s mine. And I’m gonna take care of him.”  _

Michael smiled, wistfully remembering when he said that to his own father about his own siblings. And he did his best with them. 

He went to the next article. 

**YOU’RE NO MATCH: COURT IS ON**

_ The court case of  _ Mary v. Azazel  _ is on. Five months prior, Mary of the House of Campbell accused Azazel of the Yellow Eyes of a violent rape attack leading to pregnancy. Standing the best she can, she is being represented by Metatron of the Gold for the prosecution as she recalls one of the worst nights of her life, “save for when my parents were killed.” Her husband, John of the House of Winchester, sits behind her and offers silent support while holding onto their four year old son, Dean of the House of Winchester. Both of them look stoic, although Dean keeps shooting glares from his father’s knee to Azazel, tiny hands curled into fists like he is about to box the Demon into submission. _

_ Azazel of the Yellow Eyes is being represented by Alistair of the White Eyes, one of the top defense attorneys for elite level demons.  _

Michael snorted at that, relieved that he wasn’t the prosecutor on this case. He would have felt horrible if he was. He did feel bad that Mary had such a horrible prosecutor on the case. How Metatron became a lawyer was beyond him, much less someone for hire, although Michael couldn’t fathom what he’d ever be hired for. 

_ Azazel’s defense is that Mary came onto him, and that he gave her “what so she clearly wanted”. He also states that Mary never explicitly said ‘no’, a term that is a vital part in building a rape case.  _

Michael sighed heavily and ran his hand over his face, shaking his head. No wonder it was incorrectly ruled. Azazel had a good lawyer and because he was a Demon of elite standing, while Mary was a mere Human. She really didn’t stand a chance. 

**DEMON AWARDED PARTIAL CUSTODY**

_ The case of  _ Mary v. Azazel  _ has been settled. For two months, the battle over whether or not Azazel of the Yellow Eyes should be accused of the rape and pregnancy of Mary of the House of Campbell has been raging on, with a variety of emotional testimonies from Mary of the House of Campbell and her husband, John of the House of Winchester.  _

_ It has been ruled that Azazel of the Yellow Eyes did not rape Mary of the House of Campbell and has been awarded partial custody for the offspring that Mary of the House of Campbell has yet to give birth to. Now seven months pregnant, the stoic mother burst into tears upon hearing the verdict, while Azazel smiled and thanked his lawyer, Alistair of the White Eyes.  _

_ Azazel will also be expected to provide support and education to his child, to which he apparently has no problem with. In a statement to the press after the verdict, he states, “This child is a gift, no matter that he is a  _ Lo-Zhang.  _ To help raise and nurture the child the best I can is of no issue. It is mine. Why would I want to abandon it? _ ”

“Well,” Michael muttered out loud, pouring himself a glass of wine. “That’s at least one good thing, he didn’t actually attempt to shirk responsibility.” 

_ The verdict, delivered by a jury and affirmed by the Honorable Justice Charles Shurely, was less than well received by Mary and her family, as well as a vast majority of the Human population. Even some Angels and lower level Demons have expressed their concerns over the ruling.  _

_ “I don’t want to let the Demon who has caused my wife so much distress and pain near her, near the child,” John of the House of Winchester says in a private interview after the ruling. “The child’s life is already going to be hard enough.”  _

_ Even little Dean of the House of Winchester, aged four, who has only the vaguest idea of what was going on, is displeased. When Azazel went to greet Mary and shake her hand in a hopeful cordial gesture of co-parenting, Dean shoved Azazel away and shouted “NO!” loud enough for everyone to hear.  _

Michael smiled at that. Knowing Samuel grew up having a family who loved him, that was important for the typical developmental reasons. 

On to the next article. 

**LO-ZHANG OF RAPE CONTROVERSY BORN**

_ Last night, the son of Mary of the House of Campbell and Azazel of the Yellow Eyes was born at Charity Memorial Hospital.  _

_ Present for the birth was Mary of the House of Campbell, mother; Azazel of the Yellow Eyes, father; John of the House of Winchester, husband to Mary; and Dean of the House of Winchester, aged 4.  _

Lo-Zhang  _ births are tricky, especially dependent on the type of offspring. Cambions, or  _ Lo-Zhang  _ offspring of a Human and a Demon, are one of the most dangerous types of births to have. The higher the level of Demon that is the father, the more dangerous it is. The same is true for Nephilim, the  _ Lo-Zhang  _ offspring of a Human and an Angel. As one of the highest levels of Demons, Azazel’s son was one of the most dangerous births to have been conducted at Charity Memorial.  _

_ Samuel of the Yellow Eyes was born at 10:52 PM Standard Time on May 2, with dark brown curly hair and eyes that looked like his father’s briefly. Other than his eyes, he appeared normal in appearance.  _

_ “This is both a dream and a nightmare come true,” John quips as he looks at the son he is determined to raise alongside his own. “Mary and I had been trying for another. We wanted to give Dean a brother or sister, and now he has one. But this isn’t the way we wanted it done.”  _

_ Two months ago, the verdict of the case of  _ Mary v. Azazel  _ was handed down, stating that Azazel did not rape Mary and was awarded partial custody of the child.  _

_ Little Dean, however, doesn’t seem to care that his new brother is different- just that Azazel stays far away from him.  _

_ “My brother,” he says as he holds Samuel in his arms, aided by his mother. “My Sammy.”  _

Michael let out a hard breath as he read that. He checked the date and realized that Samuel was only twenty-eight years old. That was incredibly young for a public defender, and especially one of Samuel’s accomplishments. 

He read some more articles and realized that since the age of five or so, Samuel always wore black leather gloves. That at that same age, his ability to do magic also manifested. He wondered if that had any correlation and made a note of it inside his mind. 

Samuel was the victim of a  _ go-nach  _ when he was just seven years old. Michael felt sick to his stomach. He hated the idea of  _ go-nachs _ . There were so many different ways to mark one’s coming of age rather than senseless murder of a member of society, regardless of how low the ranking of the individual in collective society. He has prosecuted those who have followed through the  _ go-nach _ , and had won those cases. There are extenuating circumstances, but for the most part, murder is murder and he will prosecute it as such. The mere idea of the murder of a child turned the Grand Prosecutor’s stomach. He, himself, didn’t have children but his brothers have blessed him with plenty of nieces and nephews and Michael couldn’t imagine them being murdered for “fun” and a “rite of passage”. 

Somehow, Samuel had managed to hold his own, and both John of the House of Winchester  _ and  _ Azazel of the Yellow Eyes had been proud of their son. 

Samuel was the victim of a second  _ go-nach _ when he was a teenager, and part of the reason why he survived was because his brother, Dean, was there; he had shot and killed in self defense of his brother with the deadly accuracy of his maternal grandfather. Dean had gone to trial over that, but was acquitted due to the fact that it was in self defense by proxy. The picture from the second one showed dark bruises around Samuel’s throat and a good sized cut on his youthful face as he was wheeled on a gurney, Dean holding a gloved hand. There were definitely some similar facial features and if it weren’t for the gloves and the eyes, no one would realize that Samuel was a  _ Lo-Zhang. _ Samuel had also apparently used magic to help ward off his attackers, of which there had been five. 

Samuel was a very good student, having made top marks at a Demon-centric private school that his Sire taught at. Michael was doubly impressed -- more so than Angel-centric schools, Demon-centric schools demanded absolute perfection and the highest grades possible. It was a requirement that everyone learned magic of all varieties there, even when the Demon didn’t have a magical ability. Michael actually liked that -- knowing the theory of how magic works is just as important as knowing how magic works. Samuel apparently had several gifts in the areas of magic, which no doubt made his Sire proud, and was consistently at the top of his class. He graduated fourth in his class and went on to a Demon-centric university, which Azazel of the Yellow Eyes paid for. 

Michael read that Mary and John weren’t pleased about the choice of schools that Samuel had attended, but Azazel had a very good point in choosing these schools: just because Samuel was a  _ Lo-Zhang  _ didn’t mean that he should be treated as such. Not to mention, neither John nor Mary would be welcome at a  _ Lo-Zhang  _ school to keep an eye on their son, and Samuel’s magical abilities combined with his intellect meant that he needed someone to look over him; hence Azazel enrolling Samuel into the Demon-centric school system he was a teacher in. 

Samuel majored in pre-law and minored in Demonic magic. It was while he was at university that he was the victim of a third  _ go-nach. _ This time, he definitely held his own, but had to limp to classes for a solid three weeks while he healed from a knife cutting him from hip to ankle in one smooth stroke. Michael was both impressed and appalled at the way they tried to take Samuel down. They had essentially tried to hamstring him. Luckily, Samuel was able to defend himself and give the youth a good burning for the attempt on his life. They tried to sue Samuel, saying it was an “unprovoked attack”, but between Azazel’s influence and Samuel being able to actually project what had happened to him with magic, the case was thrown out, and Samuel took them to both criminal and civil court, since  _ go-nachs _ were illegal. He won both cases, landing the Demons who attacked him in prison for a few years and winning a couple thousand dollars in restitution. 

Samuel took the LSATS and got a high score that impressed Michael and continued on to law school. His specialities were magical law and criminal law, and he was placed in a public defender position after passing the bar exam on the first try. That was three years ago. 

And now, Samuel had been in Michael’s courtroom, Michael’s  _ playground  _ if you will, and performed admirably. 

Michael hummed, sipping his drink and sighing. 

Samuel was a fascinating case study, and Michael was looking forward to seeing him in court more often. Now that Samuel had proven himself, he would continuously be placed in Michael’s courtroom, and that excited Michael. 

Michael was a competitive Angel. He thrived on competition. He  _ needed  _ competition, and as Grand Prosecutor and an Angel of the White Feathers, the only person who dared compete against him in anything tended to be Lucifer, his younger brother. But Lucifer’s own competitiveness was for the best story, which is how Lucifer became one of the top journalists in the world, leaving Michael to only compete with himself. 

But it was hard to compete with yourself when there was also a lack of external competition. 

Now, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and the House of Campbell was his rival in the courtroom, and Michael smiled. 

There was nothing like a little competition to warm up the blood.

He had been dreading court for years now, knowing that he was going to win conviction after conviction. Now, he felt excited and eager to go back to work. 

And all because of a tall, chestnut haired  _ Lo-Zhang _ with ever-changing eyes and black leather gloves. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael observes and researches Samuel

Michael had his public defender cases heard once a week, usually on Wednesdays. He used to do Mondays, but that was tedious and no one wanted to be there anyways, and Fridays were always a mess, so Wednesdays, in the middle of the week, were the best times for him (and really, for everyone else). 

He began to enjoy Wednesdays now that Samuel was essentially the only public defender that they would allow to go up against him. 

It was frustrating. Michael’s conviction rate of one hundred percent plummeted to seventy-six percent in the first month alone of going up against Samuel. The media was having a field day, with the press hounding him, asking him about his professional or personal opinion of Samuel. It was slowly wearing away at his careful rule of shouting only the words “no comment” to the vultures whenever Wednesday rolled around. 

He knew Samuel gave interviews to the press and spoke of Michael, but all he gave was his professional opinion of him.  _ Michael of the White Feathers is an exceptional prosecutor who knows exactly what he is doing when he is in court. He does his job very well, and I consider it an honor that I go head to head with him in court. _ Samuel said that, and variations of that, every week. Even Michael was beginning to wonder what Samuel’s  _ personal  _ opinion of him was. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Samuel said that he was an unmitigated ass. He also knew that Samuel wouldn’t say anything about how he felt personally about Michael. That could get him into hot water if Michael chose to be offended. 

It was highly frustrating, and what was even more frustrating was that Samuel was just a smidge smug about being the one to slash his conviction ratings -- although Michael couldn’t tell if it was a personal thing, or if it was a ‘just business’ one. He knew he tended to smirk when he won, especially against Samuel.

However frustrating it was for Samuel to be slashing his conviction rates and seemingly to be happy about it, he was also impressed that Samuel was consistent. He knew that Samuel’s workload had to be immense. Most people didn’t become public defenders, and Samuel could have anywhere from fifty to -- on one particular Wednesday -- two hundred and twenty eight cases to go through, and maybe fifteen minutes to go over each case and do the research on it. (Michael’s calculations are based on betting Sam does working meals, tries to get a full eight hours of sleep a night and does nothing but work). And yet, Samuel fought for the defense of his clients like he had taken months or years to prepare it, and consistently got them off or on a reduced sentence. He was impressed by Samuel’s dedication and work ethic. And he was especially impressed on how nothing seemed to scare him. Not Michael, not the Judge Death (who intimidated Michael on some days) -- no one and nothing.

They talked after court, congratulating each other, and Michael continued to gather information that he never knew about  _ Lo-Zhangs _ . Samuel’s humor and voice was snarky, a bit of a wiseass, and full of cynicism, which was a refreshing notion after so many people who didn’t know Michael well being scared, tripping over their words, and forgetting all manners of language completely. 

Samuel wasn’t afraid to tell him to his face when he was wrong, either. Michael  _ loathed  _ being wrong, but instead of screaming at him, Samuel would merely offer it as a suggestion, or make an off-hand comment about how Michael needed to do more research, and then walk off and disappear like dissipating fog, no doubt going home. 

Michael couldn’t help but get in contact with Samuel’s former teachers, professors, and colleagues. He was surprised to find out that many people were terrified of Samuel. That Samuel may be slow to anger, but when he hit his breaking point, all bets were off; he was a force to be reckoned with. Samuel seemed too level-headed to actually be  _ angry, _ but Michael reasoned that people assumed that about him as well, so he couldn’t really judge Samuel for that. His family was a touchy subject, as were, surprisingly, the gloves on his hands. Apparently, one day during Samuel’s years in high school, someone had tried to pull the gloves off of Samuel’s hands, either as a joke or as a method of being a bully. Samuel had snapped and left a large, black burn on the Demon’s face from the backhand he delivered. 

Michael did more research. Many  _ Lo-Zhangs _ opted to wear gloves to help conceal the true shape of their hands, since it hinted that they were a  _ Lo-Zhang  _ and would be able to give information on whether they’re a Nephilim, Cambion, or an Emprysal. It was also considered an insult to try to expose the hands, especially depending on the heritage. For a Demon (a low-level one, Michael noted) to attempt to remove the glove of a  _ Lo-Zhang  _ who had a parent of the Yellow Eyes was one of the worst insults a  _ Lo-Zhang  _ could have. Samuel was well within his legal right to do what he did, and while there was remorse for having to resort to violence, Michael knew that Samuel would not hesitate to do it again. 

There was also an incident in Samuel’s final year at university that never made the papers -- or if it did, his name was never mentioned -- that Michael heard from several people from Samuel’s college days. 

During the final year, after passing his LSATS, Samuel was in a relationship with a Demon, Brady of the Black Eyes, who was rather well high up in the community; and a magic inclined Human, Jessica of the House of Moore. From the few photos that Michael could find of the trio, they all looked very happy. Brady and Jessica were both going into medicine; Brady had aspirations of becoming an oncologist, Jessica a nurse. They shared an apartment just off campus, paid for by Azazel, and had been dating as a trio for a couple of years. 

One night, there had been a fight between Samuel and Brady. Brady accused Samuel of hoarding Jessica, insisting that Jessica and Samuel were planning on running away together and leaving Brady. This was a ridiculous claim, and Jessica tried to calm her boyfriends down. This lead to Brady slapping Jessica; Samuel managed to get Jessica out of harm’s way and got involved in a wrestling match, one that Samuel won. It wasn’t apparently the first fight that this happened with, but it was the last. Brady waited until Samuel wasn’t home, gone on a hunting trip with Dean, and then murdered Jessica before lighting the apartment on fire when he was sure that Samuel had seen their murdered girlfriend. Brady’s goal was to make it look like a murder-suicide, but hadn’t realized that Samuel’s magic was much stronger than Brady’s; nor did he realize that Samuel had the ability to broadcast the truth and show it like one would on a TV. Samuel broke up with Brady and turned him in. It turned out that Brady was a drug addict, and the drugs he was addicted to (of which there were a great many) made him paranoid and homicidal.

Samuel had remained very angry after that, which was understandable. He was upset that he lost the two people he loved, and over nothing, it seemed like. Azazel had to hold Samuel back from attempting to murder Brady during the perp walk before the trial, and Michael could see in the grainy colored photograph he’d found in an obscure newspaper that Samuel’s eyes were blood red. Michael hoped to never see that color in person. 

At the trial (to which Michael found the transcript), the rage was there and not only did Samuel testify against his former boyfriend, he gave a victim impact statement. 

_ You took something from all of us, Brady. You took something that was good in our lives. We had plans together, the three of us. And in your anger, in your jealousy, in your paranoia and drug fueled insanity, you threw all of that out of the goddamn window. I ask myself if there was anything I could’ve done, every day. To save her. To prevent you from going down this path. Hell, there are days I wish I hadn’t gotten out of the fire, cradling Jess in my arms. Do you even have remorse for what you did? Or are you just upset that you were caught, that you now have to face what you’ve done in a court of law? That you have to look at me in the eyes and realize that the nights we shared, the secrets we imparted onto each other, the love we had for each other meant nothing to you, and you have to realize that you nearly murdered me. I don’t know that if we turned back time and did this all over again, that you would hesitate in attempting to kill me again, and that you wouldn’t have killed Jess again as well. Whatever sentence they provide you with is at the will of the judge. And you’ll have to face judgement for what you did when you finally are laid to rest. But Brady of the Black Eyes, sentence or not, damned or not -- I know what you did. And if you should somehow get off scot free, I’d advise you to never come near me again. Because I won’t hesitate to do to you what you did to me. _

Brady was convicted and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. Samuel said it was a kindness, and after that, Michael surmised that Samuel didn’t allow anyone else to get close to him. No doubt the rage, the hurt, and the betrayal still stung him even to this day. 

Michael wondered if that’s why Samuel was so good at his job as a public defender, if that’s  _ why  _ he became a public defender. Because he knew that there is truly something worse out there than half of what these people have done. Drug charges, prostitution, theft -- these were small potatoes to nearly being murdered on four separate occasions, and one of them by his former lover. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer drops in and makes Michael realize a thing or two.

Michael didn’t even have to look up from his newspaper in order to know that his brother, Lucifer, had walked in. His brother, one of the best and most unbiased journalists in the world. 

He knew why Lucifer was here, of course. The biggest trial of the year was starting tomorrow, with alleged serial killer Abaddon of the Knight Eyes. She was being tried for the murders and rapes of four Demons, six Humans, and ten  _ Lo-Zhangs _ . She had hired Samuel as her attorney and they had already tried plea bargaining. 

He knew that Samuel knew she was guilty of the twenty murders (that they knew of) that she was on trial for. He could tell it in the sardonic smile that his courtroom rival wore during discoveries and plea bargainings, the smoldering burgundy color of his eyes. But he also knew Samuel was going to do his job and defend her, to undermine Michael’s witnesses and experts, just like Michael would do to Samuel. And this excited him. They were done playing minor leagues -- it was time for major leagues. He wanted to see how good Samuel was when he had ample time to prepare, especially after five months of going head to head against him as a public defender. 

“I come home after you not seeing me for how long,” Lucifer scoffed, “And you’re reading the  _ paper _ ?” He flicked out a white wing to hit Michael over the head.

“At least it’s your article,” Michael groused, raising a wing to deflect his brother’s. “ _ Top Against Bottom -- What to Expect From Tomorrow’s Trial. _ ” He looked at his brother. “Must your headlines sound like a cross between a jerk off rag and a tabloid?” 

“Must you have a stick up your ass?” Lucifer asked as he sat down in the chair across from his brother. “So, what do you think of Samuel of the Yellow Eyes?” 

“He’s a tricky bastard, that’s for certain,” Michael said. “Intelligent and he actually knows what he’s doing. And he’s not afraid of me, so that’s a bonus. Have you met him?” 

Lucifer nodded. “For the articles I did on Brady of the Black Eyes and that whole fiasco,” he confirmed. “He was distraught then, but whoa.” He shivered. “There was fire, there. Righteous anger. I have no doubt that if a jury acquitted him, Samuel would be in prison. I’m glad that I’ll be seeing what a fine young lawyer he’s shaped up to be.” 

Michael snorted, neatly folding the newspaper up and setting it aside. “He’s been a pain in my ass but considering his background, I can’t say that I blame him. I’ve met Azazel of the Yellow Eyes, during that organized crime beef.” 

“The Special Children Project he had going on, you mean?” Lucifer asked. When he got Michael’s confirming nod, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I couldn’t imagine what a blood child of Azazel would be like, until I met Samuel. Truthfully, I’m glad he’s a Cambion.” 

Michael blinked. “You didn’t call him a  _ Lo-Zhang _ ,” he noted. 

“I don’t even know  _ why  _ we lump them all together under one big umbrella term,” Lucifer sighed. “Nephilim, Cambions, and Emprysals are totally different across the spectrum. I won’t refer to Samuel as a  _ Lo-Zhang _ . He’s a Cambion. Can you imagine what he’d be like as a Demon?” 

That made Michael shudder. “No, I can’t, and I’m not sure I want to,” he admitted. 

“Speaking of Samuel, I’ve heard that you’ve done some private eye investigating of your own, big brother.” Lucifer wore a wicked smirk. 

“The first public defender to challenge me in millennia, baby brother,” Michael pointed out. “Did you think I  _ wouldn’t  _ ask around about Samuel?” 

“Oh no, I figured you’d do some snooping,” Lucifer chuckled. “But I didn’t think you would ask former professors and teachers. I’m half surprised you haven’t walked up to Samuel’s Sire and his parents to ask about him. Or his equally attractive brother.” 

Michael rolled his eyes. “I do have boundaries, unlike  _ some of us _ ,” he said pointedly, looking at his brother and ignoring what Lucifer said about Dean. 

“I’m a journalist, I don’t have boundaries,” Lucifer said blithely. “Scandals sell, Mikey.” 

Michael sighed and shook his head. 

“If I didn’t know any better, Mick,” Lucifer said, using the fond childhood nickname for his older brother, “I’d say you were obsessed with him.” 

“I’m not obsessed!” Michael protested. “He’s a puzzle, Luce. A very confusing puzzle, and one I’d like to solve.” 

“You’re always trying to solve a puzzle, not everything is a Sherlock Holmes novel,” Lucifer snorted. “So why this man?” 

Michael looked down at the headshot of Samuel looking piercingly at him through the black and white ink of the paper. He wondered what color his eyes were when they took that picture. Was he irritated? Elated? Put-upon? Excited? Embarrassed? He couldn’t quite tell. “There’s something about him, Luce,” he said. “I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t quite explain.” 

“Maybe you want to fuck him,” Lucifer suggested. 

Michael gave Lucifer a shocked look.  _ “Lucifer!”  _

“I’m just saying,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “He’s extremely attractive. He’s intelligent. He can hold his own in a conversation. You haven’t had a relationship since Anna of the Green Feathers. And I know you don’t do what a lot of Angels, Demons, Humans, what have you in your position of power and wealth do and fuck whomever you want, or hire call girls or rent boys. It’s been ages, Mick. And I know who you’re looking for, and I think you found it in Samuel of the Yellow Eyes.” 

“You’re delusional,” Michael gave a hollow laugh. Sure, he had wondered if Samuel was a sexual creature, if he liked males. Would he be dominant or submissive? Would it depend on his mood, or would he be set?

But it was all personal speculation, and not actual fantasizing. Right?

“Mick,” Lucifer said seriously. “Look me in the eyes, and tell me that you haven’t had a single fantasy about Samuel of the Yellow Eyes with a straight face.”

Michael turned and looked at Lucifer, ready to tell his brother off. His mouth opened, prepared to rip his smarmy brother a new asshole. He had  _ no such fantasies, whatsoever, about Samuel.  _

And then one of the images that flashed through his mind came through --

_ Samuel arching underneath of him, gasping as Michael trailed his feathers over his sweat soaked body. The Cambion’s gloved hands were clenched tightly as the Angel teased him mercilessly, wondering how this gorgeous being beneath him would react-- _

And he couldn’t. His jaw clicked shut and he angrily turned his head away. “Shut up,” he grumbled. 

“Knew it,” Lucifer said smugly, leaning back in his seat. “Mick, come on. I’d fuck him.” 

“You fuck everything that moves,” Michael groaned. “I don’t even know why I have this. . . this. . .  _ infatuation  _ with him.” 

“He challenges you,” Lucifer said, as if that explained everything. “You’ve said it before. If you wanted a sheep, you’d get an actual sheep. Samuel’s anything but a sheep.”

No, Michael would have to agree on that. Samuel was not a sheep. He was a wolf, the lone wolf without a pack. Feral and dangerous and didn’t trust because he was injured and didn’t want to get hurt even more. Michael wanted to help him. 

“Michael,” Lucifer said. “In all seriousness, I wouldn’t do anything until after the trial.” 

Michael inhaled, then nodded. “Yeah. The trial,” he agreed. “You’re covering it, right?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Do you want me to see if Samuel feels the same way about you?” 

“Forget it,” Michael said dismissively. “No one wants the Grand Prosecutor for who he is out of the courtroom, just what he represents.” 

Lucifer gave a sad smile. “I don’t think that’s true, but if you don’t want me to find out, I won’t. Or, at least, I won’t intentionally find out.” 

“Thanks,” Michael said, getting up. “Wine?” 

“Please,” Lucifer said. 

Michael grabbed a bottle of their favorite wine and popped it open. Pouring two glasses, he carried them back out and handed one to Lucifer. “To trials and tribulations,” he said. 

“And to unethical journalistic practices,” Lucifer echoed, clinking his glass with Michael. 

Michael gave a rare smile and sat back, wondering what Samuel was doing right now. 

“Mind if I crash here?” Lucifer asked. 

“Feel free,” Michael nodded. “Your usual room is ready.” 

Lucifer nodded and smiled. “Do you think you’ll secure a conviction?” he asked. 

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Michael admitted. “The evidence we have forensically and non-forensically says yes, but Sam’s  _ really  _ good at getting evidence thrown out of court. It’s like he has the Rules of Evidence memorized.” 

“He might,” Lucifer pointed out. “In  _ Lo-Zhang  _ courts, the Evidence Rules are really harped on, and you know he would’ve done some stints there, just by his nature.” 

“That’s true,” Michael conceded, “but I also don’t think Azazel would allow Samuel to practice there.” 

“Knowing how uptight Azazel can be, that’s a fair assumption,” Lucifer agreed. “I mean, the children he coerced the parents into letting him adopt for the Special Children Project were one thing. But his own flesh and blood? I’m surprised he didn’t turn into a helicopter parent.” 

“Do you think Mary and John would’ve allowed that?” Michael snorted. “Samuel of the House of Campbell had a lot of sway, and John of the House of Winchester is no pushover, either.”

“Heavens no,” Lucifer chuckled. “I’m sure John would fight God himself and believe he came out on top of that fight. And Samuel’s no different.” 

“I think no one knows that more than me, little brother,” Michael chuckled. “I’m excited for court. Hell, I’ve been excited for court for the past several months. It’s nice having a worthy opponent.” 

“I’m sure,” Lucifer said with a smile. “He’s very good if he’s managed to slash your conviction rate so thoroughly.”

“Even if he loses, he’s still going to be revered as one of the best defense attorneys,” Michael sighed. “Of course, it depends on how the jurors are.”

Lucifer nodded. “So you think that if it was anyone other than Samuel defending Abaddon, she’d be convicted,” he said. “But because it’s Samuel, you’re not sure.”

Michael nodded, sipping his wine as he relaxed. “Damn him,” he said.

Lucifer laughed. “It’ll keep you humble,” he teased. He stood up, wine finished. “I’m going to turn in, I had a long flight today,” he admitted. “Get some sleep, okay? You’re irritable if you show up to court with anything less than four hours of sleep.” 

“When did you become our mother?” Michael groaned, smiling up at his brother to take the sting out of the insult.

“I refuse to wear gingham on principle,” Lucifer grinned. “Good night, Mick.” 

“Sleep well, Luce.” 

Michael stayed awake, mulling over his thoughts as he drank his wine. He didn’t appreciate Lucifer outing him as having. . . what would one classify this, a crush? Infatuation? Obsession? On Samuel of the Yellow Eyes, but he knew that he needed to have it voiced out loud. 

And it was true. It had been ages since he’s been with anyone, and meeting someone who pushed the envelope in more ways than one would have definitely ramped up his long-lost libido. And Samuel was perfect for the Grand Prosecutor.

Michael decided to wait to do anything untoward upon Samuel until after the trial. He got up and rinsed out his glass before putting it up to dry and then padding off to bed. 

When he fell asleep, white wings covering his nude body like a blanket, he dreamed of eyes that couldn’t quite decide what color they were and a low voice murmuring his name.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trial starts, and it's Samuel's first one. Does he hold up under the pressure?

The courtroom was bustling with people from every species, making it difficult for Michael to reach his seat. Samuel was already there, along with Abaddon, the redheaded woman with her back straight and proud and wearing a black dress with her signature black leather jacket. Outside, there were supporters for her head and supporters for… well, other, less than savory things. 

Michael sneaked a glance over at Samuel. He was wearing one of his nicer suits, a rich black with a white shirt and a bright blue tie. In a way, Michael felt like he was a little underwhelming in his soft grey suit, red shirt, and black tie. But then again, Michael could afford to be underwhelming. Sam could not. 

He watched Samuel adjust his cufflinks and his gloves and not for the first time, he wondered what Samuel’s hands looked like and perhaps more importantly, how they felt. Sighing softly, he turned to look at his notes for his opening statement and caught his brother’s eye. Lucifer had a smug look of self-satisfaction on his face as he stood next to Gadreel of the Grey, his photographer (and, Michael believed, his current lover) with a notepad, scribbling everything down. 

_ All Rise for the Honorable Death!! _

A hush fell over the courtroom as everyone stood up, Abaddon’s chains clanking loudly as Death himself took his seat, overlooking everyone. 

Michael’s eyes darted to the jury box as Death gave the sign that they could all sit and saw a couple familiar faces among them. He grimaced internally. 

“Shall you read the reason why we are here today, Bailiff?” Death asked softly. 

“Yes, Sir.” The Bailiff cleared his throat. “Today, we are here to begin the trial proceedings in this here court in the case of the _ First Quadrant versus Abaddon of the Void. _ Abaddon has pled not guilty to twenty counts of first degree homicide and first degree sexual assault and is therefore to be tried here, in front of a jury of her peers.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the state?” Death asked quietly. 

“I do, your Honor,” Michael said, standing up. 

“And who are you to defend the state?” 

“I am Michael, an Angel of the White and the Grand Prosecutor,” Michael replied, letting the ritual of the introductions calm him. He was nervous. He, who was hardly ever nervous in court. “Formerly a Prince of Heaven, and I am here to defend the state.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the accused?”

“I do, your Honor.” 

“And whom are you to defend the accused?” 

“I am Samuel of the House of Campbell, the bastard son of Azazel of the Yellow Eyes,” Samuel stated clearly. “I am a  _ Lo-Zhang _ and I am here to defend the accused.” 

“Do you verify that you have the credentials and the knowledge to defend your respective positions and that you have upheld the ethical practices of the esteemed profession of law?” 

“I do,” Michael and Samuel echoed. 

“And do you verify that there will be no magical trickery in order to persuade the jury of the accused’s peers in order to obtain a conviction or acquittal?” 

“I do, upon my solemn oath,” Michael and Samuel replied. Michael inhaled, then exhaled, casting a side eye at Samuel. 

“Then let the trial commence. Prosecution, proceed with your opening statement.” 

Samuel sat down as Michael got up to pace the courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he stated, feeling his wings fall out of his back, “first of all, thank you for being here at such an early hour in order to witness justice come to fruition, but justice never sleeps.” 

He could hear his brother snort under his breath from across the courtroom. “I do hope by the end of the day, and once you have heard the evidence, that you will see to it that justice is served. Not just for the sake of putting away a woman, a Demon of one of the highest orders of her species, who has done heinous things; but for the victims and lives she’s destroyed through her senseless violence and need for power.” He gave a nod. “Thank you.” He walked back over to his table and sat down. 

“Defense?” 

Samuel took one last sip of coffee before standing up and giving a disarming smile at the jury before he began to speak. 

“Good morning, I hope everyone is doing well this morning. I’m good, thanks for asking.” 

There were a couple of chuckles and Michael couldn’t help but smile as well. 

“This morning, we begin the trial proceedings for my client, who has been accused of twenty murders and rapes, but did she commit them beyond a reasonable doubt? What if, in twenty incidences, she was just simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?” 

Well, that was an interesting approach. 

“As you view the evidence and listen to the witnesses, I want you to ask yourselves this question: do you believe it? Do you understand it? And if the answer to that wavers, then you know in your heart what you must decide.” Samuel nodded. “Thank you.” 

The room was silent except for what sounded like a thousand camera shutters as Sam walked back to his seat and sat down. 

“Let us begin,” Death said. “Prosecution, your witness.” 

Michael stood up. “The Prosecution calls…”

“So,” Michael said as he looked at Dr. Ishim of the Yellow Feathers, his expert witness in Demon psychology, “would you say that it’s your professional opinion that Abaddon is a mentally deranged individual?” 

“OBJECTION!” Samuel shouted. “Leading the witness!”

_ Dammit, _ Michael thought sourly, glaring at Samuel. “Withdrawn,” he said. “Ishim, is it in your professional opinion that Abaddon needs psychiatric help?” 

“Objection! Leading the witness,  _ yet again _ ,” Samuel said. 

Michael gritted his teeth. He may need to hire Samuel as his lawyer if he keeps doing this, although that might be hard to do if Samuel is dead from Michael strangling him. Not only has the young Cambrion raised the appropriate objections that others in his position would have let slide, but he has  _ somehow  _ undermined and planted the seed of doubt in  _ every  _ witness that he, as the Prosecution, has brought forth.  _ Somehow, someway.  _

“Dr. Ishim,” he said. “What is your professional opinion after examining Abaddon?” 

Dr. Ishim shifted in his seat on the stand. This did not bode well; it was evident to Michael that Ishim was concerned about the cross-examination. “In my professional opinion,” he began, “Abaddon is a classic example of antisocial personality disorder with homicidal tendencies and should not be out in normal society.” 

“Is it in your expert opinion, then, that she committed the crimes of which she has been accused of?” Michael asked. 

“Absolutely,” Dr. Ishim replied. “It is also in my expert opinion that she should be incarcerated in solitary confinement for the rest of her life.” 

“Thank you.” Michael looked at a somewhat smug Samuel. “Your witness, Counselor,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Samuel replied. He stood up and walked over to the witness stand. “Dr. Ishim, you stated that Abaddon has ASPD combined with homicidal tendencies, correct?” 

“Yes,” Dr. Ishim answered. 

“Do you remember the book that you wrote and published on Demon psychology?” Samuel asked. 

“Objection! Relevance?” Michael asked. 

“I’ll allow it,” Death replied. “Answer the question, Dr. Ishim.” 

“Yes, I do remember,” Dr. Ishim replied. 

“So, do you remember that in that book, you summarized and concluded that, in your expert, professional opinion, that roughly eighty-five percent of Demons have ASPD and that a startling ninety-six percent of Demons display some form of homicidal tendencies?” Samuel inquired. 

Oh, no  _ wonder  _ the bastard looked so smug! Michael could’ve kissed him for his brilliance -- and strangled him for being so fucking good at his job and recognizing Dr. Ishim and the book he wrote. 

Dr. Ishim grimaced. “Yes, I do recall those numbers,” he admitted. 

“Would you say that all of your test subjects in your studies and those whom you have seen as clients have one or both of these disorders?” Samuel asked. 

“Yes,” Dr. Ishim replied. 

“Were you able to conduct either your studies or your sessions with patients without any sort of bias, or if there was any bias, you were able to ignore it for the sake of proper results?” Samuel asked. 

Michael clenched his fist under the desk, silently willing the psychologist to lie on the stand if he needed to, perjury consequences be damned!

“I did my best to eliminate any bias that I had,” Dr. Ishim replied carefully. Michael sighed, part in relief. That was easily evaded, and Samuel seemed to accept this answer. 

“Concerning your statement about solitary confinement,” Samuel said. “Are you aware of the Gadreel Rule?” 

Michael exhaled roughly. He had hoped that Dr. Ishim would not comment on solitary confinement but he did. He  _ knew  _ Samuel would pick up on that and the Gadreel Rule. 

“I can’t say that I am,” Dr. Ishim replied smoothly. Michael knew that that was a lie, and from the look on Samuel’s face, he knew it too.  _ Fuck. _

“To refresh your memory, Dr. Ishim, and to explain it to the court,” Samuel announced and Michael buried his face in his hands. “The Gadreel Rule gives the outline and guidelines of how long the various species are legally allowed to be in solitary confinement at any given time during incarceration. It’s named after an Angel by the name of Gadreel of the Red Feathers, who spent the majority of his life in wrongful solitary confinement during his incarceration for a crime he didn’t commit. Once he was freed from not just solitary confinement, but incarceration, he couldn’t handle being in normal society due to the amount of trauma he experienced as a result of his solitary confinement. He ended up committing suicide and the Trio of Judges ruled that guidelines and circumstances must be given for solitary confinement for those who are incarcerated, naming it after Gadreel, and giving anyone who doesn’t follow through on the law and is found guilty of it -- for it is a law -- a prison sentence of twenty-five to life.” He looked directly at Dr. Ishim. “The longest an incarcerated Demon is legally allowed to be in solitary confinement is two hundred seventy-five days at any given time, dependent upon the infraction putting them in solitary. Is there any reason why your suggested sentence for my client goes against the Gadreel Rule?” 

Dr. Ishim shook his head, regretting speaking up. “No, Sir.” 

Samuel looked at Death. “No further questions, your Honor. The Defense rests.” 

“Prosecution?” Death asked. 

“Nothing further, the Prosecution rests,” Michael replied. 

“Court is adjourned for the day, we will reconvene at nine in the morning tomorrow.” Death banged the gavel and Michael groaned to himself as the courtroom exploded into a flurry. 

He needed a new approach to prosecute Abaddon, or a serial killer may walk free. There was also his winning streak to contend with -- he was determined to keep his criminal conviction rate solid -- but he mostly wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a free serial killer. 

But damn, can Samuel the Cambrion do a fine job at defending even the worst of the worst. 

He looked over at Samuel, who was laughing with a reporter as he packed up his things. He then caught Lucifer’s eye and his younger brother winked. 

_ Bastard. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a.... rather _interesting_ dream about Samuel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here lieth smut

_ “Please, Michael,” Samuel breathed as his back arched underneath of Michael. “Please, give me more.”  _

_ “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Michael purred as he raked his fingernails up Samuel’s thigh. ”Patience is a virtue, Samuel.”  _

_ “I would have patience if you would just fuckin’ push into me,” Samuel laughed breathlessly. His gloved hands dug into the bedspread underneath them.  _

_ Michael’s wings arched high above them in a display of dominance over the younger creature, his eyes roving the Cambion’s body hungrily. “Are you sure you’re ready for me, Samuel?” he growled softly.  _

_ “By all the Saints of the Former Earth,” Samuel growled back, “If you don’t fuck me now, I’m flipping us over and riding you hard and fast.”  _

_ “While that does sound very tempting,” Michael chuckled darkly, his hands wrapping around the back of Samuel’s thighs and pushing them up towards his head, bending him in half. “I think I’m just going to fuck you like this.”  _

_ “Well, then get on with it!” Samuel huffed impatiently. “Please, Michael, I need you.”  _

_ Michael angled his cock downwards and started breaching Samuel’s hole, watching as the different expressions flashed across the other being’s face. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he panted as he pushed in, feeling Samuel’s body relax and accept him. “So fuckin’ tight.”  _

_ Samuel moaned and rocked his hips eagerly, trying to take Michael’s cock quicker than what the Angel was allowing. “Michael, please,” he begged. “I need you in me, now.”  _

_ “Need, need, need,” Michael teased as he finally came flush against Samuel’s taut ass, letting the long legs of his lover drape over his shoulders as he leaned into Samuel. “You would think that it’s been a while for you.”  _

_ “It has,” Samuel laughed. “Far too long.”  _

_ Michael ducked his head and nipped at Samuel’s throat. “Mine.”  _

_ “Yours,” Samuel agreed. “Move, please.”  _

_ “May I make a request, first?” Michael asked softly.  _

_ “Of course,” Samuel whispered. “Name it, Michael.”  _

_ “Can you take your gloves off?” Michael asked.  _

_ There was a breath of a pause, but slowly, Samuel removed one, then both gloves. Underneath, the hands were black and claw-like, hallmarking Samuel’s Demonic heritage, but Michael didn’t feel revulsion.  _

_ “Now will you move?” Samuel snarked.  _

_ Michael did, starting off at a firm, steady pace that elicited moans and gasps from Samuel, but it was clear that the Cambion wanted to be  _ taken _ , to be  _ used  _ by the most elite Angel in existence. And so, Michael gave into his carnal desires and began fucking Samuel like he was possessed.  _

_ Samuel grabbed Michael’s wings and clung to them, black claws digging into white feathers and Michael howled in pleasure as a curved nail -- talon? -- pressed over his oil gland, making oil seep into his feathers on either side, drenching them.  _

_ “Think I should drink your oils from the source one day,” Samuel groaned, crying out as Michael shifted the angle ever so slightly to ram against his prostate over and over again. “See how needy I can make you.”  _

_ “You that eager to bring me to my knees?” Michael laughed, ducking down to decorate Samuel’s throat.  _

_ The public defender laughed, willingly baring his neck to the Grand Prosecutor. “Only in the bedroom and the courtroom,” he teased. “Harder, Michael, please. I’m not going to break.”  _

_ “I could literally snap you like a twig right now,” Michael snarled.  _

_ “But you won’t,” Samuel breathed, his eyes a deep burgundy, full of lust and desire. “And that’s part of the fun. Come on, Michael of the White Feathers. Show this little Cambion what you’re  _ really  _ made of.” He surged upwards, wrapping his lips around Michael’s earlobe and biting it harshly, fangs coming forward. “Lay waste to this creation, let him never forget who owns him so thoroughly.”  _

_ Michael could hardly resist an invitation like that and so he began to utterly and completely lay waste to Samuel, groaning as he heard his lover cry out and spill between them- _

Michael woke up with a cry of pleasure as he came across his stomach and feathers, Samuel’s name on his lips. Laying there, in bed, panting, he groaned. 

The trial had gone on for two weeks, thanks to the sheer amount of evidence, and Samuel was good at undermining everything Michael had. Michael was also doing the same to Samuel. They both knew that this was going to be a hard case to secure a victory for, for either of them. They gave it their all. 

Tomorrow was closing statements, and Michael had never realized that he was getting bad in… well, needing a partner, if truth be told. He needed sex, and apparently his brain settled on Samuel of the Yellow Eyes as his next bedfellow. 

Sighing, he checked the time. 3 AM. 

Well, he wasn’t getting any more sleep. He got out of bed and padded over to his bathroom to rinse off and to scrub the cum out of his wings. 

He was so fucked, and he knew it.

How could he face Samuel in the courtroom the day  _ after  _ he had a wet dream about him? Hell, he doesn’t think he had had a wet dream since he was a teenager. 

“God, I’m so fucked,” he said. 

He had one small mercy: that Lucifer wasn’t around to witness this. He just hoped he could keep this from his brother. 

He highly doubted it. 

But it was nice to dream, right? 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's closing arguments and time for the jury to deliberate. New information comes to light, and Samuel and Michael go at each other

Michael was never so thankful to be giving a closing statement in his life. This trial had seemed to drag, if only because this victory (should he win) would be hard fought, well earned, and won fairly for once. He had written no less than seven versions of his closing statement and he hoped that this version would be the one to cinch this new notch of victories into his belt. 

“Are we ready to close?” Death asked. 

“Yes, your Honor,” Samuel and Michael replied in near perfect unison. 

“Prosecution?” 

Michael took a brief glance at his notes as he stood up, before walking over to the jury box. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and more,” he began. “You have but one choice to make. One choice does not seem like a lot, but this choice has the potential to impact hundreds of lives.” 

“You have witnessed the histrionic behavior of Abaddon over the past two weeks,” he said, turning to point at Abaddon. He caught Samuel’s serene, opalescent gaze and felt himself lightly flush as he remembered the dream from the night before. He pressed on. “You have seen the lack of empathy and compassion that she has shown when we discussed the victims and how they were brutally and violently bereft of life. Only someone with no heart could have committed these crimes, and Abaddon has not shown that she has such a thing. She did not show revulsion nor has she shown sorrow for the innocent lives that I believe she took. 

“This isn’t just about punishing the offender, who is sitting in this courtroom today. This is about showing those who share a mind with the offender that they  _ will  _ be caught, tried, and punished to the fullest extent of the law. It’s about justice being served. And above all, it’s about providing closure for the victims and their families, knowing that their nightmare is over. That they can heal, knowing that they’re safe.

“As you talk amongst yourselves and look over the evidence, keep in mind the following names.” Michael then proceeded to list every victim’s name, in order of their deaths. Abaddon had attempted several others, but they survived, although a couple were in the hospital. The attempted murders weren’t focused on due to the fact that the actual homicides were more important, legally. “The victims. They’re not just victims of violent crimes. They had lives, hopes and dreams. Ambitions. All of these things were cruelly taken away from them when Abaddon came and murdered -- no,  _ butchered _ them.” He turned to Death and nodded. “I close.” 

“Defense?” 

Michael returned to his seat as Sam stood up and strode over to the jury box. 

“Jury,” he began. “My esteemed colleague brought up some very valid points during his closing statement. Many of them are very true. However, I’m here to tell you that there is no such thing as closure.”

Michael blinked.  _ What? _

“Closure doesn’t exist. I’ll tell you why. Please, close your eyes and don’t think, just feel. You are young again, and madly in love with two of the most wonderful people. You have great prospects. You feel invincible. And then, suddenly one of your partners snaps.” 

_ He’s using himself and his story as an example,  _ Michael realized with growing horror.  _ Adding that personal touch. Oh, you clever and handsome  _ _ bastard. _

“Paranoia had set into his mind,” Samuel continued. “And one night, he sets fire to your apartment. You live, if only barely. Your other partner does not. Justice came and was served after a very long trial. He received life in prison without parole. You have ‘closure’, they say. He’s off the streets, he’s behind bars.” 

“But what they don’t tell you about is that you’re always going to be asking questions. ‘Could I have done more?’ ‘Could I have done less?’ ‘What if we never met this person?’ ‘What if that fight never happened?’ ‘Could I have said I love you one more time?’ ‘Why did I live?’ ‘Why did she have to die?’ ‘Why did he do it?’” 

“These questions and more are going to be wandering through your head, and any answers you get will never satisfy you. You will  _ always  _ have these questions. There will  _ always  _ be that gnawing feeling in your gut. And you can heal, definitely, and move on from it, and justice has been served, but those questions are forever. Do you feel that gnawing feeling? That feeling of knowing you will never know the true answer to these questions?” 

Samuel paused, waiting. Michael inhaled, then exhaled slowly. He was  _ good. _

“Open your eyes,” Samuel commanded softly, “And imagine all of that, on top of the guilt of finding out that you sent the wrong person to prison for a crime that they did not commit.” 

_ Nicely done _ , Michael thought.  _ Very nicely done. Still a bastard, though. _

“You have heard all of the evidence, you have listened to the testimonies given,” Samuel continued. “Now I ask you that if you know in your heart that she did not commit these crimes, how can you stomach sending an innocent person to prison? Indeed, do not forget about the victims, those who lived or those who died. But justice isn’t served if an innocent person goes in for a guilty man’s crime.” He turned to look at Death. “I close.” 

Death turned his head to the jury as Samuel took his seat. “It’s up to you, now,” he said. “Go deliberate.” 

Quietly, the jury rose and left the courtroom. Michael knew that they didn’t have an easy task in front of them and he sighed. They’d be here for a few hours, at least. 

The hours slowly ticked by. Both Samuel and Michael used the time to catch up on other cases. Every so often, Michael would discreetly look at Samuel and watch him for a little bit, watch him write something down or read a book. He couldn’t help but imagine if the sex they’d have would be like the way he dreamed. Especially after that surprise dream. 

He got so enthralled in watching Samuel scribble something furiously on a legal pad well into hour six that when Death’s phone rang, Michael raised his wings, expecting an attack. He saw Lucifer had responded the same way and Samuel was standing, his gloves seeming to glow. 

Death talked on the phone quietly for a few moments before hanging up. He looked over the agitated courtroom with a sense of amusement that carried a gave tone. 

“One of the alleged victims who was in the hospital,” he began in his stately voice, “by the name of Codi of the House of Drasher, has died.” 

Michael stood up. “I respectfully request that Abaddon of the Knight Eyes be bound by law for the first degree murder of Codi of the House of Drasher.” 

“Wait a minute,” Samuel said, coming forward. The glow around his hands was gone. “Does the death fit within the definition of homicidal timing?” 

Michael gritted his teeth. Of  _ course _ the attractive upstart would think of homicidal timing. “We have a year and a day from the attack,” he said. “I believe it’s within that time frame.” 

“I’m not just asking about the timing,” Samuel said. “Codi of the House of Drasher had severe medical issues that predate his attack.” 

And of course he remembered Codi’s conditions. “Your Honor, I would still like to bind Abaddon by law for murder,” he said. “The public would rest easier.” 

“Until they hear that you bound her by law for a crime when it was in reality a medical condition,” Samuel snorted. “Or if it wasn’t within that year and day timeframe. Your Honor, can you tell us what they think the cause of death is?” 

“There’s a few leading theories,” Death replied. “So far, they’re thinking either septic shock, a viral infection, or his injuries. The autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow.”

“So, two out of the three leading theories involve conditions that predate the attack,” Samuel said. 

Michael set his jaw as he rifled through the papers. Where was that list of when attacks took place? “Septic shock could’ve been linked to his injuries,” he said. 

“Then that’s on the doctors for not keeping an eye on him and making sure he took his medicine,” Samuel replied. “That’s not murder, that’s malpractice or, at the very worst, manslaughter. Not to mention that Codi of the House of Drasher had endocarditis, which is a bacterial infection of the lungs that most commonly afflicts IV drug users. One of the symptoms is septic emboli in his lung base. He could have died of sepsis if one of those burst, especially if he wasn’t taking his antibiotics.” 

“That’s real cute that you know all of that,” Michael grumbled, making a subtle jab at the fact that Brady had been a drug addict. Where was that paper?? God, this is why he needed his paralegal, but she ended up in the hospital herself after a bad flying accident. 

“It’s also real cute that you want to put someone in jail for something that may not be related to his injuries, or that she may not have done at all,” Samuel threw back. 

Michael turned, his eyes flashing. He strode over to where Samuel was standing and looking at him in righteous fury, his eyes a dark maroon. “I would rather be safe than sorry,” he said shortly. 

“Or, maybe you’re too concerned about your falling conviction rate that you’re turning desperate,” Samuel replied. “What’s the matter? Can’t stand to be bested over and over again on your own battlefield, by a mere  _ Lo-Zhang _ ?” 

The crowd in the courtroom gasped as Michael’s wings arched high, threatening Samuel outright. The Cambion gave a low, rough laugh before baring his throat.

“Go ahead,” Samuel taunted. 

Michael barely heard Lucifer’s catcall but he ignored it. “At least I didn’t stoop to your level and tell the victims’ families that there’s no such thing as closure,” he snarled. 

“I gave an oath to tell the truth,” Samuel snapped. “And the truth is there’s no such thing. It’s a paltry lie that’s given to victims of violent crimes so that they can sleep easier at night, or that’s at least the intention.” His eyes flashed briefly. “You live in a sheltered world, Michael of the White Feathers. You’ve never laid awake, tossing and turning at night, with questions like those running through your head, wondering why that peace, that ‘closure’ everyone was saying you’d get when the bastard was in jail and got what he rightly deserved. You’ve never felt fear run through you when you’re  _ seven  _ and a group of people decided that just because you’re different, you’re considered nothing more than the scum beneath the Former Earth, and that you should be eradicated.” 

A hush had fallen over the crowd as Samuel spoke. Michael knew all of this to be true. He really hadn’t, not since he was a General for God, and those questions weren’t the ones running through his head at night. Not when he believed that he was in the right. “You’re right,” he agreed. “But we’re here to find justice and to make sure it’s served.” 

“I’m here to serve my client,” Samuel said. “If I lose this case, I lose the case. But whether or not she did what she is on trial for is for the  _ jury  _ to decide. Not me, not you.” 

“You know,” Michael sneered. “You know exactly who you’re defending.” 

“I tell my clients not to tell me whether they’re guilty or not,” Samuel said, “and therefore I don’t get the conflict of interest.” 

Huh. That’s new. Michael  _ swore  _ that Samuel knew. “Regardless, the people deserve to be protected.” 

“From who?” Samuel asked. “From her? Or from you?” 

“Gentlemen,” Death commanded gently but firmly. The Angel and the Cambion whipped their heads towards the judge’s bench to look at the steely gaze of Death himself. “The issue of homicidal timing will be resolved tomorrow, when the autopsy has been completed. No one will be bound by law at this time. But it is apparent that neither of you can remain in my courtroom while we wait for the jury to deliberate. Step outside, gentlemen and resolve your issues there.” 

“With pleasure,” Samuel snapped. He turned on his heel and marched out, his head held high. 

“You too, Michael of the White,” Death said. “Don’t try me.” 

“Of course not, your Honor,” Michael said blandly, seething with rage on the inside. He has  _ never  _ been kicked out of a courtroom. Never. And now, here he was, being kicked out. The insanity of it all! And it was all Samuel’s fault. 

He followed after Samuel and let the doors thud close behind him. Samuel was nowhere to be found. 

Lucifer exited the courtroom and stood behind Michael. “That was spectacular,” he murmured. 

“Shut up,” Michael grumbled. “I just got kicked out of the courtroom.” 

“Did you know there’s still cum in your wings?” Lucifer asked mildly. “They look freshly washed, but you missed  _ several  _ spots. My, my, big brother. What were you  _ doing  _ last night?” 

Michael flushed hotly. “I had a dream,” he said shortly. 

“I see, and did it happen to involve a certain young Cambion?” Lucifer smirked. “No wonder you got so personal. You thought about what he looked like in your bed last night and got so excited over it.” 

“I should smack you for your insolence,” Michael growled. 

“Temper,” Lucifer hummed. “But you know I’m right. And you know he’s right. On several things.” 

Michael sighed heavily. “I know, I just… I don’t want to lose.” 

“Losing is never fun,” Lucifer agreed. “And you’ve gotten so used to winning, that losing never crossed your mind. Everyone is undefeated until they aren’t.” 

“When did you catch being reasonable?” Michael groaned. “God, I’m a mess.” 

“You are,” Lucifer said. “But you can mend this.” 

“How? He’s not even here!” Michael said, gesturing to the empty hallway. 

“Yes, he is,” Lucifer said simply. His eyes glanced towards the restroom that stated  _ MEN _ . “Wait until he comes out. Then talk. And listen. Sometimes, you forget to do that.” He patted Michael’s shoulder before turning and silently entering the courtroom again. 

Michael sat down on a bench and sighed heavily. 

It was going to be a long wait. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief reconciliation before the verdict

Contrary to what he thought, Michael didn’t have to wait long for Samuel to come out of the bathroom. He stood up and looked at Samuel. The Grand Prosecutor and the young defense attorney stared at each other, wanting to apologize but unwilling to be the first one to make a move. To cave in and admit that they were wrong. 

Finally, they both started talking at the same time. 

“I’m so sorry-”

“I was completely out of line, I’m sorry-” 

They both stared at each other for a moment before giving somewhat relieved chuckles. Samuel was the one who extended the olive branch of his hand and Michael shook it gladly. 

“I’m so glad that this trial is almost over,” Samuel sighed. “I’ve been downright irritable as of late because of it.” 

“You and me both,” Michael chuckled as he sat down on the bench again. “We’re both exhausted and without outlets for our frustrations. I’m not surprised that it culminated into a fight in the courtroom.” He paused. “Although, this  _ is  _ the first time I’ve been thrown out of a courtroom.”

“First time for everything,” Samuel snorted. “Have you ever known Death to throw attorneys out like that?” he asked. 

“Many of them,” Michael said, “for lesser than what just happened with us.” 

Samuel nodded. “And is this the first time you’ve shown up to court in such an unkempt manner?” 

It took Michael a moment, then he realized what the Cambion was referring to the state of his wings. He flattered that Samuel noticed, but also annoyed that he was called out on it. Before the Angel could say anything, however, Samuel spoke again. 

“It’s nice to know that the infamous Grand Prosecutor is actually not some futuristic android,” he added, adjusting his gloves casually. 

Michael gawked at Samuel, feeling himself turn red at the insinuation. 

“It’s nothing to be shy about, Michael,” Samuel added. “We all have our urges.” 

Michael stiffly tucked his wings away. Lucifer commenting on what had happened the night before was one thing, but the object, the  _ reason  _ for his state of dishevelment commenting on it seemed to rub the white-winged angel the wrong way. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Samuel said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I tend to voice my observations out loud to individuals. Especially when I find them interesting.” 

There seemed to be a smug undertone to his voice, and the first thought that ran through Michael’s head was how he could remove the smugness from the Cambion in a sexual way. The second thought was him praying to whatever was listening (if there was anything listening) that Samuel didn’t figure out that the reason why Michael’s wings were rumpled was because of a sex dream that he had about him. 

However, before he could even have a comeback, Lucifer poked his head out of the courtroom. 

“Have the two of you put away your rulers?” he asked. Seeing them both nod, he spoke again. “Good. The jury has made their decision.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The verdict of the trial

“We, the honorable jury selected for this trial, find the defendant, Abaddon of the Knight Eyes,  _ guilty _ of first degree serial murder,” the jury foreman announced. 

Michael leaned back in his seat and sighed heavily. It was a combination of a victory and a loss for him. While he managed to secure a conviction, the jury had combined all of Abaddon’s murders into one murder charge; this in turn created a lesser charge and therefore had different sentencing guidelines. It meant that she was going to receive a lesser sentence than if she had been convicted of each murder separately. In that, Samuel had prevailed. 

And it was a victory well earned by the Cambion. He would now be a sought after defense attorney for any crimes in which Michael was the prosecutor. 

There were the sounds of cheers and tears around him, and Michael had to give a small smile. He did have a bit of a victory, after all. He had a reason to smile. 

He stood up as Samuel approached him and shook his hand, both of them composed and the fight from earlier forgiven. They also wore their victory smiles. Justice was served, and yet a victory for the defense prevailed in the lesser charge. Michael also couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth of the defense attorney’s hand underneath his glove. He wished he could see the hands. 

“I look forward to continuing to go against you in the courtroom,” Michael told him. 

Samuel gave a smirk. “Likewise,” he said. “Congratulations on securing your conviction.” 

“Thank you,” Michael replied. “And congratulations to you on your ability to convince a jury to convict your client of a lesser charge and therefore giving her a lesser sentence.” 

Samuel smiled. “Thank you,” he said. 

Michael returned the smile. Around them, the cameras were going crazy and the reporters were vying for quotes, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the papers would say about them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the gas station leads to Michael happening upon Samuel during an inconvenient, yet opportune moment

Michael heaved a sigh and blinked his eyes rapidly, hoping to stop the letters from swimming. He failed. They were still dancing. He could’ve sworn that the brief was doing an honest to Heaven pirouette. 

He checked the time. It was three in the morning. “Holy fuck,” he swore, stretching. He stood up and packed away the brief. It was Friday, he still had two days to read it and make notes on it before he has to write his reply when he returned to the office on Monday. 

He decided that he should start looking around for something to eat. He hadn’t eaten since the prosecutor dinner, where they had all talked about the cases on the docket and which ones they were dreading, which ones they wished they had, and bemoaning about the lack of legal assistants. And that was about nine hours ago, or so he thought.  _ Time is an illusion. _

His searches of his fridge and pantry revealed absolutely nothing to eat, which meant that he had to go out and find his own food.  _ Dammit.  _ Oh well, he had been looking for an excuse to get delicious gas station taquitos, and this was the perfect excuse. 

Michael threw on a fleece hoodie and sneakers before heading out, opting to walk in the crisp spring night rather than fly. The gas station wasn’t too far, and it would also relax him. 

As he walked, his mind wandered to Samuel. It’s been two weeks since the trial, and the two have had many other cases against each other. They were a lot more amicable since that spat during the deliberation of Abaddon’s trial, and Michael wished that it would be more. Thankfully, he hasn’t had anymore wet dreams about the young Cambion. While he was a little sad about not having them, he was also very,  _ very _ grateful, knowing how astute Samuel’s observational skills were. 

He arrived at the gas station and walked over to the roller grill. He grabbed two of the southwest chicken taquitos and two of the cheesy chicken chipotle taquitos. On a whim, he also decided to buy a cheddarwurst brat and grabbed a forty-four ounce fountain drink and filled it with an energy drink, no ice. He wanted to do some ironing tonight before he went to bed. 

“Do you have a rewards card?” the Human at the register asked brightly. 

Michael shook his head and within three minutes was walking back to his home. 

He decided to take the long way home, enjoying the cool, still night air as he walked. It was the perfect night for flying. Perhaps the next night, if the weather was good, he’ll indulge in an aimless flight. But, for the moment, he was content with his walk. 

Suddenly, his ears picked up a familiar language. He paused, unsure at first if it was what he thought it was, but there was no mistaking his mother tongue of Enochian. He listened, and what he heard chilled him to the bone. 

It was the sound of Angels who had found themselves a  _ Lo-Zhang _ , and were about to commit a  _ go-nach. _

Michael hurried through the streets, listening to the Enochian and the bastardized version that Demons knew.

When he arrived on the scene, he stopped in horror, transfixed on the spectacle in front of him.

Samuel was surrounded by six young Angels -- four of the Red, two of the Black. A dark red shield was around Samuel, his eyes mimicking the color of his shield. All seven participants’ hands were glowing as they tossed magic at each other. It looked like the Angels had already landed a few hits on Samuel, from the cut on his eyebrow and the blood in a puddle on the ground. 

Michael was jerked out of his trance by the Angels yelling at him. 

“ _ Get lost, old man! _ ” they shouted in Enochian. “ _ This is a young man’s game! _ ” 

“ _ Murder isn’t a game! _ ” Michael called back. He set down his food and let his own wings out. 

“ _ He’s just a  _ Lo-Zhang _ ,”  _ one of the red-feathered Angels scoffed.  _ “We’re better off without them, aren’t we gang? _ ” 

“ _ Yeah! _ ” the other five shouted. 

Samuel used Michael distracting them to whisper a spell and the two black feathered Angels and one of the red feathered Angels were knocked unconscious. Shackles appeared around them and Samuel looked up at Michael. 

“ _ What the fuck are you doing here? _ ” he asked in the bastard Enochian tongue. 

Michael smirked. “ _ Apparently, saving your ass, _ ” he said. He turned back to the other Angels of the Red Feathers. “ _ Yield,”  _ he said. “ _ Or suffer the wrath of an Angel of the White _ .” 

“ _ It’s not murder if it’s a  _ Lo-Zhang _ ,”  _ the obvious ringleader said. “ _ You should know that, old man. _ ” 

“ _ Murder is murder, there are very few exceptions _ ,” Michael replied, his own hands glowing. “ _ I’m sure that the murder of a promenient defense attorney would be prosecuted rather harshly. It’s a pity I won’t be able to prosecute you, because I would throw the book at you. _ ” 

The ringleader laughed. 

“ _ Yield, _ ” Michael commanded. “ _ You have done enough damage. _ ” 

“ _ Do you know who I am? _ ” the ringleader scoffed. 

“ _ It’s apparent you don’t know who I am, _ ” Michael growled. “ _ I am Michael of the White Feathers, the Grand Prosecutor and the General of God. I am far older and far more powerful than  _ you. _ ”  _

The other two conscious Angels took steps back, obviously thinking about surrendering. The ringleader, however, was more cocky than a straight man who thinks he’s God’s gift to women thinking he’s going to get laid that night, and stood strong. 

“ _ You certainly wouldn’t defend this bastard, would you?”  _ The ringleader laughed. “ _ His precious mommy probably wanted the demon to fuck her hard and only cried rape when she found out that she was pregnant.”  _

Michael was, for lack of a better word, stunned. He had  _ never  _ heard such a violent, disgusting thing be told to another person, or even a  _ Lo-Zhang _ , regardless of heritage. It was such a vile insult that he reeled from it. 

However, shock was not the emotion that flitted across Samuel’s face. The dark red of his eyes turned to splashes of blood. The shield came down. Leather clad hands glowed like embers as Samuel gathered his magic. A snarl graced his sardonic features. 

Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and the House of Campbell was downright  _ furious _ , as he should be. And even though Michael was far more powerful than the cantankerous Cambion, he wasn’t entirely sure if he one, could stop the impending homicide of the Angel that was most certainly about to take place and two, wanted to stop the homicide. 

Still, he had to try. Samuel threw several spells at the offender, the younger Angel yipping as he threw his own spells back. Both of the fighters gave a remarkable lack of concern to the wounds that they were receiving now that all shields and pretenses had been dropped. The other two conscious Angels, by this point, had done the first smart thing in their lives and fled the scene. 

“ENOUGH!!” Michael finally bellowed, his sword materialized in his hand. “Samuel, desist! He’s not worth it.” 

Samuel stopped, absently blocking a blow. He looked at Michael and spat blood on the ground. “ _ Why? He’d kill me without a second thought,”  _ he growled. 

“ _ Because then you’d be no better than him, _ ” Michael replied. “ _ And I know you are. He will most assuredly be punished. _ ” He cut a hard glare at the Angel, who now looked absolutely terrified. “ _ Too bad that I won’t be able to be the prosecutor on this case, conflict of interest, _ ” he continued. “ _ But Death with preside over at the very least the arraignment, and you know as well as I do what will happen there. _ ” 

He watched as Samuel weighed his words in his mind before he heaved a heavy sigh. The bright red eyes faded into a blood orange hue and Samuel snarled at the Angel. “ _ Fine _ ,” he said harshly. “ _ I won’t take his life, even though he deserves it. _ ” 

Michael nodded, and with a flick of his sword, bound the young Angel without the captive knocking over his food. He cast a sympathetic look at Samuel before raising his head to the sky, closed his eyes and prayed.  _ This is Michael of the White. I need for the police to come to my current location and pick up four Angelic individuals who were attempting a  _ go-nach  _ on Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell. They are bound and I am willing to look over Samuel’s wounds that he sustained whilst he was defending himself.  _

_ I hear your call, brother, _ Naomi of the Grey Feathers and the Chief of Police replied.  _ Leave the perpetrators there and get Samuel out of there and looked over. We’ll talk to him tomorrow. We have your location and are assembling our force.  _

_ Yes, sister _ . He turned and looked over at Samuel. The sword disappeared and he retrieved his drink before speaking. “Will you allow for me to tend to your wounds?” he asked. 

Samuel gave a patented smirk and huffed a short laugh before nodding in a sheepish manner. “Yeah,” he said. 

Michael proceeded to offer him his elbow, beaming as Samuel took it. “Then let’s fly,” he said. 

Samuel nodded and gripped tightly. Michael’s wings (probably showing off a little) flapped powerfully and they were flying off to Michael’s home. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael takes Samuel home and patches him up

Michael clicked the lights on. He set the taquitos and drink down onto the table by the front door before half carrying Samuel over to the couch. Gently, he set the Cambion down and looked him over. 

“Where are you most hurt?” he asked him seriously. 

Samuel groaned and shifted. “Ribs,” he said. “A few of them feel cracked.” 

“Let me see,” Michael commanded. 

Samuel raised his shirt, hissing. The tanned skin was darkening and Michael ignored the chiseled abs and the jutting hipbones in favor of gently palpitating his ribs. 

“It does feel like the ribs are cracked,” he agreed. “I can’t heal them, but I can ease the pain a little bit.” 

Samuel nodded and Michael focused his energy on that area, taking away the pain. 

“Thanks,” Samuel gunted, shifting again to ease his shirt down. 

“Of course,” Michael said as he began checking over Samuel’s more obvious wounds. 

“You didn’t have to help me, though,” Samuel added. 

“I wanted to,” Michael said. “And, yes, I did.” 

“Why?” Samuel asked, his voice questioning. 

“Your life is just as important as mine,” Michael said. “Whether other Angels, Demons, or Humans realize it or not. Because you were someone in need. And well,” he gave him a small smile, “who else will be brave enough to challenge me in the courtroom if you’re dead?” 

Samuel laughed softly and let Michael finish healing what he could, his eyes a hazy hazel.  _ He’s calm and relaxed,  _ Michael thought to himself, pleased that he was able to provide that for him. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I can share my taquitos with you.” 

Samuel gave a soft smile. “Just one,” he said. “Sleep will do me more good.” 

“Well,” Michael said. “You’re more than welcome to stay here. In fact, I insist on it.” 

Samuel gave a dry chuckle. “Any way I can convince you otherwise?” he asked softly. “This isn’t my first  _ go-nach _ , you know.” 

“I know, but I said I’d help you,” Michael said. “Unless…” he hesitated. “You don’t want to stay here?” 

Samuel smiled. “I’ll stay,” he said. “I’m just teasing.” 

Michael smiled and hurried off to prepare the guest bedroom, calling “Help yourself to the taquitos!” over his shoulder. He put fresh sheets on the bed, prepared the bathroom, and even put a cold glass of water on the nightstand. He made sure that there was a phone charger plugged in before going to fetch Samuel. 

He returned to find the young Cambion dozing on the couch, one taquito eaten. He gently nudged him awake. 

“Bed ready?” Samuel yawned, stretching. 

Michael nodded. “Glass of cold water is on the nightstand, as well. Let me show you to your room.” 

Samuel yawned and followed Michael. “Thanks,” he murmured. 

“You’re welcome,” Michael smiled as he opened the door to the guest bedroom. “I’m just down the hall if you need me.” 

Samuel nodded, giving his thanks again before walking into the room to get some sleep. Michael left him to it, smiling giddily to himself, and went to grab his food and eat it before going to sleep. 

Fuck ironing. He’s got the whole weekend to do it. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vivid dream wakes Michael up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut!!

_ Michael ran his hands up Samuel’s thighs, stroking over smooth, tanned skin. His thumbs gently brushed against the jutting hipbones as his hands snaked around. He grabbed the Cambion’s ass, making him keen loudly.  _

_ “Fuck,” Samuel whined.  _

_ “Shh,” Michael teased. “We wouldn’t want to anger the ghosts that haunt this place with you being oh so delightfully loud.”  _

_ “Oh hush, you,” Samuel laughed, clenching. Michael gave a loud groan of pleasure as he felt Samuel’s walls flutter around him and rocked up into him hard. “The ghosts are just going to be jealous of the amazing sex we’re having.”  _

_ “I have no idea where you managed to come up with  _ that  _ idea,” Michael said dryly as he squeezed Samuel’s ass again. He smirked at the sound that the action elicited from the younger man. “Sounds like the talk of a crazy man to me.”  _

_ “Do I sound like I’m not  _ in mens rea? _ ” Samuel smirked back. “If so, maybe I shouldn’t be on this thick, delicious cock of yours, then. You know, with the whole ‘needing legal consent’ thing that our laws have.”  _

_ “Oh you little  _ brat, _ ” Michael laughed as he flipped them over, making sure to land them right on top of the fleece blanket that they had laid on the ground. He looked down at his prize with a predatory grin.  _

_ Samuel groaned as Michael began to move powerfully, thrusting into him forcefully as a ‘punishment’ for his insolence, rocking his hips and squeezing around Michael’s cock like a vice. It created such amazing, delicious friction and Michael wanted even  _ more.

_ Suddenly, as if on cue, Samuel’s claws -- unshackled from their leather and magic -- reached up and dug into Michael’s skin, making the Angel cry out as the Cambion raked his claws down his chest. Delicious pain and the hazy pleasure from the nonverbal cry of passionate pleading joined in on the mess of sexual need, want, desire, and passion. He could feel that small streams flowed from his whimpering wounds, but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much about it. There was only a single minded focus on bringing this copulation to completion.  _

“My sweet Cambion,” _ he groaned in his mother tongue.  _

_ Samuel gasped as he heard Michael speak in entrancing Enochian. “ _ Again _ ,” he said, the bastardized version of the language falling off of harshly bitten lips.  _ “Say it again, please.” 

_ Michael groaned and rocked his hips more violently into the younger man. He could feel his release start to wash over him like a cascading waterfall.  _ “My sweet Cambion, _ ” he groaned. “Samuel-”  _

_ “Michael-”  _

Michael awoke with a cry as he came violently, his cock spasming and the rest of his body shaking from the sheer force of the climax. His wings fluttered uselessly behind him in pleasure. 

When, at long last, he finished, he laid still and caught his breath while smiling dopily. 

He laid there in bed for a while, not bothering to move. He was too comfortable to do so as he basked in the memory of the wet dream, a luxury that he did not have the last time his body and mind conspired to entertain him with salacious dreams of Samuel. He thought about those taut muscles under smooth skin, feeling them under his own calloused palms; the snark that would no doubt shine through the sexual satisfaction; chestnut curls soaked and sticking to his forehead, causing Michael to gently push it out of his eyes…

The location of the dream had helped with Michael’s libido, as well. He knew the location well. It was an old Lover’s Lane on the outskirts of the next town over; that is, it  _ was  _ a Lover’s Lane until a rash of grizzly murders had taken place there. The victims were seven couples and bore only one survivor. The killer had been caught and summarily executed a few generations go, but the local legends say that the spirits of the victims lived there. Michael personally didn’t believe in  _ that  _ area of the supernatural, but would change his mind if offered sufficient evidence. As a result, he had taken quite a few of his lovers there about a generation after the Collusion. It was quiet and he knew no one would bother them. He and Samuel had been discussing Lover’s Lanes and their use as murder sites two days prior, the Cambion’s eyes a bright crystal blue as he chattered excitedly. 

Thinking about Samuel made Michael remember a highly important factoid. 

_ Samuel was sleeping just down the hall. _

Using swears that he hasn’t used since he was on the battlefield, Michael sprang from his bed and grabbed his robe off of the hook. Any of the relaxed, blissful state that the orgasm had achieved was gone, while panic took up residence. He made sure that the evidence of his pleasure was hidden before slipping out of his bedroom silently and swiftly took off down the hall. 

The door was slightly ajar, and Michael carefully used a wet wing ( _ not afuckinggain, Michael _ , he admonished himself) to open it a little more, just enough so that he could check on Samuel. 

Samuel was sprawled on the guest bed, stretched out and yet slightly crunched up so that his feet weren’t hanging off of the bed. He was under the blankets, with his shirt having been discarded. Michael noted with some happiness that there was hardly any bruising or abrasions from the  _ go-nach _ . His hands, still gloved, were curled up and by his head. As Michael watched and listened without taking a breath, a loud snore soon erupted from the Cambion. 

Michael gave thanks in a way that he hadn’t in a millennia and carefully made his way back to his own bedroom and therefore his showers. He needed to get cleaned up, and cleaned up  _ well _ , so that Samuel would never suspect that that night, Michael had dreamed about fucking him. 

As he turned on the shower and disrobed, his thoughts turned to food. 

_ I wonder if Samuel likes pancakes. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another trial commences

“ALL RISE FOR THE HONORABLE DEATH!!” 

Michael stood up as Death swept into the courtroom, smoothing out his charcoal grey suit. He sneaked a peak past the defendant to look at Samuel, who was dressed today in a chocolate brown suit and a pale yellow shirt. 

It had been a month since the  _ go-nach _ and Samuel had bounced back as though it never happened. Michael figured that he had always done so to protect himself. Michael couldn’t really blame him, either, especially with the case before them. 

“Shall you read the reason why we are here today, Bailiff?” Death asked softly. 

“Yes, Sir.” The Bailiff cleared his throat. “Today, we are here to begin the trial proceedings in this here court in the case of the _ Second Quadrant versus Richard of the House of Roman.  _ Richard has pled not guilty to one count of first degree trafficking at the federal level and three counts of forcible rape and is therefore to be tried here, in front of a jury of his peers.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the state?” Death asked quietly. 

“I do, your Honor,” Michael said, standing up. 

“And whom are you to defend the state?” 

“I am Michael, an Angel of the White and the Grand Prosecutor,” Michael replied, letting the ritual of the introductions ground him. He was on the battlefield, he couldn’t let the fact that he cared for Samuel affect his case. “Formerly a Prince of Heaven, and I am here to defend the state.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the accused?”

“I do, your Honor.” 

“And whom are you to defend the accused?” 

“I am Samuel of the House of Campbell, the bastard son of Azazel of the Yellow Eyes,” Samuel stated clearly. “I am a  _ Lo-Zhang _ and I am here to defend the accused.” 

“Do you verify that you have the credentials and the knowledge to defend your respective positions and that you have upheld the ethical practices of the esteemed profession of law?” 

“I do,” Michael and Samuel echoed. Michael thought to himself,  _ as long as there’s nothing in those ethical practices about not sexually fantasizing about the opposition.  _

“And do you verify that there will be no magical trickery in order to persuade the jury of the accused peer’s in order to obtain a conviction or acquittal?” 

“I do, upon my solemn oath,” Michael and Samuel replied. 

“Then let the trial commence. Prosecution, proceed with your opening statement.”

Samuel sat down as Michael approached the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he began. “Thank you for serving on this jury. I can only hope that you all have iron stomachs, for what you are about to hear is not for the weak at heart, or stomach for that matter.” 

“There is no getting around the fact that the three counts of rape that Richard of the House of Roman is being charged with is for with underage boys. There are probably even more victims that we don’t know about. Boys who are too scared to come forward, lest that the defendant gets enraged and sells them through his contacts and they’re never heard from again. Boys who have been brainwashed so that the word ‘no’ is removed from their vocabulary. Or even boys who don’t realize or understand that what had happened to them is rape. The three brave young men who have come forward and charged Richard with rape aim to not only seek justice for themselves, but for those without a voice.” 

_ Nicely done,  _ Michael thought to himself at the twist to his speech. He could feel Samuel nodding in the background. “Richard of the House of Roman is a sexual, habitual predator who preys on young boys, brainwashes them, and then sells them to the highest bidder for them to use how they see fit. He has been caught before, but he’s flashed his money and made it all disappear.

“By the time you have seen and heard all of the evidence, you will be able to understand why there is so much ire and distaste directed at him, and why I implore you to let the evidence and not the money guide you to a conviction. Thank you.” Michael turned and looked at Death. “Nothing further, your Honor.”

“Defense?”

Michael sat down as Samuel stood up and walked over to the jury box. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and those of you who are neither,” Samuel began, “thank you for doing this thankless task of serving on this jury. I am sorry that you are up so early, but as justice is blind, she knows nor cares not what time it is.” 

Michael snorted.  _ Isn’t that the whole truth, _ he agreed silently while he watched the jury relax. 

“My client, Richard of the House of Roman, sits before you accused of a heinous crime -- several of them, in fact. But can you say that he committed these crimes based upon the preponderance of the evidence? True, the burden of proof standard is less than that for beyond a reasonable doubt, especially with evidentiary standards; however it is a tough question to ask either way.

“I am not here to laud Richard’s praises and to list what he’s done for the community. That has little to no bearing on this case. What I am here to do is to make sure that justice is not only served, but isn’t wrongly served upon the wrong individual.” 

_ Well, there’s an incorruptible young lawyer, _ Michael thought with a smile. He knew that Samuel had money, despite being a public defender -- between Azazel showering his son in money and the past couple of cases that he’s worked with prosecutors other than Michael, he’s raked in a good chunk of change and spends it wisely. 

“As we go through all of the evidence,” Samuel continued. “I want you to ask yourself if you believe that this man had a hand with that piece of evidence, and use that to make your determination of guilt. Thank you for your time and service.” He turned towards Death. “The court is yours, your Honor.” 

Michael nodded and sighed as he strapped in for a long trial. 

He was looking forward to it.

“And exactly  _ what  _ relevance does that question have pertaining to this case?” Michael asked dryly two days later during Samuel’s cross-examination of one of the doctors who treated one of the victims post assault. 

“How is asking how many sexual assault cases this man has examined during his time as a licensed physician  _ not  _ relevant to a case involving forcible rape, Prosecutor?” Samuel asked in reply. Michael had no answer to that. He had a point. 

“Answer the question, Doctor,” Death said. 

Dr. Alistair of the Void leered at Samuel. “I can’t say that I’ve kept track,” he purred nasally, “but close to a thousand or so.” 

“How many of those would you say have been with those who were born as a woman?” Samuel asked. 

Alistair thought about that for a moment. “The vast majority of them,” he answered. 

“Would you mind explaining for the court then,” Samuel stated, “how you would conduct a sexual assault examination of a victim who presents as male at birth?” 

“Not at all,” Alistair replied. “It’s the same as for those who are born as women. Any clothes are removed and sealed in evidence bags for fluids and other DNA evidence, such as hairs. I then usually ask the victim in question what exactly happened so that I know where to look for evidence. Any visible injuries are then documented and photographed as evidence and then treated if any skin is broken or if any bones have been fractured. If any penetration and orgasm by the perpetrator has occurred, then I take a sample of the victim’s blood and send it off for analysis to see if they’ve contracted any diseases. When that happens, I also advise them to seek out their primary care physician every month for a year to make sure that they did not contract any sexually transmitted or blood-borne diseases that can be transmitted through blood contact or seminal fluid that may’ve been missed in the initial sample. I will also conduct a tox screen and oftentimes I will keep the victim overnight for observation and suicide watch.” 

“Do you swab anything?” Samuel asked. 

“Only if penetration has occurred,” Alistair admitted. 

Michael groaned. He wished that Alistair hadn’t said that. 

“You are aware, of course, that seminal fluid is, in fact, a fluid, and therefore it can run into the nearest hole without the use of penetration, correct?” Samuel asked bluntly. 

“Yes, Counselor,” Alistair replied in an offended tone. 

“So, you don’t swab the anal cavity or the mouth on male-presenting victims unless penetration was specifically mentioned by the victim?” Samuel restated the question, just to make sure he heard correctly. 

“Correct,” Alistair stated. 

Samuel gave a meaningful look towards the jury before looking back at Alistair. “Doctor, did the young men in question see you for their sexual assault examinations?” 

“Only one did,” Alistair confirmed. 

“Can you please describe for the court, then, the extent of the young man’s injuries and his assault?”

“That goes against doctor-patient privilege, Counselor, you know this,” Alistair sniffed. 

“Section 89-72 of the Code of Law states that doctor-patient privilege is waived during the course of a criminal trial due to the fact that it is no longer considered a private matter, as well as the fact that we are discussing a  _ crime _ , Doctor, as you are very well aware of,” Samuel replied coolly. “The examination and the diagnosis, therefore, is considered evidence and is subject to discovery, questioning, examination and cross-examination. State for the court the injuries and the result of that examination.” His tone clearly stated that he would not ask Alistair a third time. 

Alistair looked up at Death from the witness stand. 

“Answer the question, Doctor,” Death commanded. 

Alistair threw a desperate look at Michael, who was very intently studying the ink on his legal pad. Why didn’t he plan for Samuel to ask about the examination?  _ Stupid, it’s because you’re thinking with your cock again, and not your head, _ he admonished himself.  _ Why are you this stupid when you think with your dick, Michael? You’re better than this.  _

“The young man suffered from significant bruising,” Alistair sighed, deciding to avoid a contempt charge. “Particularly around his wrists and ankles, as though he had been restrained. He was already nude when he came into my office. He clutched close to fifty dollars in his right hand and he was incredibly reluctant to part with it. He said that he thought he may’ve been drugged, and that he believed that no penetration had occurred. His tox screen indicated that he had, indeed, been drugged with ketamine, about half of the amount that would’ve killed him. His penis also had abrasions on it that were reminiscent of rug burn.” 

“Did you check his anal cavity or his mouth for any sign of penetration or seminal fluid?” Samuel asked. 

“No,” Alistair replied. 

“Why?” 

“Because he said that he believed that penetration didn’t occur.” 

“So, you took a man, who admitted to you that he was most likely drugged by his rapist and who had rug burn on his penis,” Samuel said slowly, “at his word even though he wasn’t sure of whether or not he had been penetrated?” 

A silence fell over the courtroom, save for the  _ thwaps  _ that echoed throughout as Michael continuously hit his head with his legal pad.  _ I need to get fucking laid, _ he thought sourly. He had had two more wet dreams starring Samuel since the trial began, and he had the feeling that there would be more. He’s not sure what it was about seeing Samuel show off his prowess in the courtroom that gets him so fucking horny. He’d need a psychologist to unlock that information, and he wasn’t keen about going up to Raphael and say  _ Hi, dear sister mine, please tell me why I want to pound the young and hot defense attorney through a wall whenever I see him work in the courtroom? _

“No comment,” was Alistair’s reply. 

“Are you not commenting because you truly do not know the answer,” Samuel asked shrewdly, “or because by admitting that you didn’t follow through all of the protocols needed for a sexual assault examination, regardless of gender, you admit that you failed to uphold your oath as a physician and therefore you can incriminate yourself in a crime?” 

“No comment,” Alistair repeated. 

“Doctor,” Samuel started on a different line of questioning, “have you ever been in contact with Richard of the House of Roman?” 

“We’ve met at various functions,” Alistair replied. 

“How well do you know him?” 

“How well can we really know anyone?” 

“This is a courtroom, not a philosophy classroom,” Samuel snapped. 

Alistair cut him a look. “Fairly well,” he grudgingly admitted. 

“How well is ‘fairly well’?” Samuel asked. 

“I entertained him at my home a few times for dinner,” Alistair said, “and him with me. Met his wife and daughter.” 

“Did he ever hint about unethical business practices?” Samuel asked. 

“If he did, I never caught it,” Alistair replied. “We typically didn’t talk about business.” 

“So you have no idea if he was running a trafficking ring?” Samuel asked. 

Alistair shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of,” he said. 

“Did he seem to always have young teenaged boys around?” 

“Yes, but he said that they were apprentices. They were of that age.” 

“Nothing further, your Honor.” 

Michael groaned.  _ I’m aroused and I still have court to do with this handsome bastard.  _

Michael  _ hated  _ Richard of the House of Roman. He hated how he always wore a navy blue suit to court with personalized cufflinks and his hair gelled and hairsprayed to perfection. He hated the smarmy and quite frankly creepy smile he wore. Michael would have nightmares of that smile splitting open with rows upon rows of sharp teeth and chowing down on little boys. Like Pennywise. It made him shudder and gag. 

But most of all, he hated the  _ casualness  _ of the Human. He more than hated him, actually. He  _ loathed  _ him. 

“Nothing further, your Honor,” Samuel said, his voice cutting across and into Michael’s daydream of going completely vigilante on Richard and therefore doing society a favor. 

“Prosecution?” 

Michael stood up and walked over to the witness stand, meeting Richard’s gaze head on. “Richard-” 

“Please,” Richard grinned. “Dick.” 

Michael gritted his teeth and prayed to God to grant him patience, because if He gave him strength, he would end up wearing an orange jumpsuit himself. Another thing to hate: the fact that he  _ insisted  _ on being called Dick.  _ Well, call yourself what you are,  _ he thought before continuing. “Dick,” he said, “you said that the boys that said you allegedly raped them were apprentices of yours, correct?” 

“Yes?” Richard replied.

“Can you please inform the court as to what those appenticeships were for?” 

“Two of them were for film,” Richard explained. “And one was studying finance and economics.” 

“And they were at your house for what purpose?” Michael asked. 

“I charter a boarding school at my residence,” Richard was all too happy to clarify. “The boys receive a full education while they also complete their apprenticeship. They graduate high school and are interning in their chosen fields before the end of summer.” 

Michael couldn’t help but agree mentally that that was an  _ excellent  _ business model.  _ Dammit.  _ “Do you invite girls into your boarding school, or is it boys only?” 

“Boys only,” Richard admitted. “Perhaps one day I’ll expand into girls, but I’d have to add another extension onto my house.” 

“How much access to the rest of the home do the boys at your charter school have?” 

“Almost unlimited access,” Richard said. “The only areas that are off limits for them are the quarters for my family.” 

“But you have unlimited access,” Michael added. 

“Of course,” Richard said. 

“How many other people have unlimited access to all parts?” 

“Six others. The maid, the cook, and the bodyguards,” Richard replied. 

“Your wife doesn’t have unlimited access?” 

“My wife is a gorgeous creature,” Richard stated simply. “And I know how young men are.”

“How old is your daughter?” 

“Seven years old.” There was a note of pride in the Human’s voice. 

“Has she ever stolen the methods for you to access restricted areas?” 

“On many occasions, she’s a little squirrel like that.” 

“Has she ever gone into a restricted area?” 

“Absolutely. She has gone into the boarding school showers before while the boys were showering.” 

“Who retaliated in that situation?” 

“I did, I got her out of there as quickly as possible and she was grounded.” 

“Have you been in these restricted areas when you weren’t supposed to be? For instance, while the boys were showering.” 

“Once or twice, doing my own rounds,” Richard replied. 

“I would like to bring forth evidence exhibit number A-34,” Michael stated, “which are the logs of when Richard-” 

“Dick,” Richard not-so-helpfully interjected.

“Whatever,” Michael dismissed the reminder. That was a first, using the term ‘whatever’ in court. “When the defendant had logged in and out of where he was when he swiped his card to access certain areas.” 

Richard didn’t show an ounce of emotion as the forty page logs were brought forward. Michael inwardly smirked. 

“Are you aware that these logs exist?” Michael asked. 

“Yes,” Richard said. 

“Are you aware that several times prior to your arrest, you visited the boys’ rooms between the hours of 10 PM and 4 AM for a minimum of two hours each time?” 

“Yes,” Richard responded. 

“Can you state your reasonings for being there?” 

“They called for me.”

“How so?”

“The intercoms.” 

“Which are not recorded.” 

“Correct.” 

“Is there any reason why you’d be in there for two hours or more at a time?” 

“Different reasons. They’re boys who need a strong, masculine figure in their lives.” 

Michael sighed. It seemed like he wasn’t going to get anything out. “Dick,” he said, not wanting to hear himself get corrected. “Is there any reason why a quarter of your boys never appear after completing their classes and apprenticeship?” 

Richard gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe they ran off. Once they are done here, they’re done. I no longer have authority over them.” 

“These tend to be your more ‘in trouble’ proteges,” Michael noted. 

“All the more reason to indicate that they’ve ran away. I’m sure they’re dearly missed,” Richard replied. 

Michael gave a meaningful look to the jury. He’s tried several traffickers before. This was a routine response. “Nothing further, your Honor.” 

The smirk Richard of the House of Roman bore made Michael’s blood boil. 

“ _ We, the honorable jury selected for this trial, find Richard of the House of Roman  _ guilty  _ of felony human trafficking and three counts of forcible rape. _ ” 

Michael shook Samuel’s hand. “Good case,” he said. 

“Excellent,” Samuel agreed. “Your cross on him was magnificent. Just enough to pass the preponderance of the evidence standard.” 

“He admitted it without admitting it,” Michael shrugged. “I  _ am  _ a little sad that that charter school of his will be closed down. It’s a brilliant model.” 

“Agreed,” Samuel said. “And it gives low-income students a chance that they wouldn’t have otherwise.” 

Michael nodded, almost forgetting that despite his status, Samuel wouldn’t be where he is today without Azazel’s influence and monetary support. “Do you ever wish you had to work harder for what you have?” he asked curiously. 

“Occasionally,” Samuel admitted. “I try not to dwell on the fact that even by a Demon’s or an Angel’s standards, I was exceptionally well off. I got into the best schools, the best education, and I didn’t want for anything materialistic. Azazel was a good Sire to me. I only wish that I wasn’t the product of a crime.” 

Michael nodded. “We cannot choose how or by whom we came into being,” he said. “All we can do is make the most of it with the gifts we were given.” 

Samuel gave a wry smile, his eyes a dark green. “Well said, Michael,” he said. “Monday?” 

“Monday,” Michael agreed. 

And with that, Samuel disappeared.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dream, another night of restlessness

_ Michael pressed soft kisses along the side of Samuel’s neck, purring darkly as he tightened his grip around the Cambion’s wrists. “Why are you struggling, little Cambion?” he crooned sweetly. “We've only just begun.”  _

_ “We're going to get caught,” Samuel laughed even as he clenched around Michael's cock. “And then the impending investigation will be  _ mortifying.” 

_ “We're not going to get caught fucking in the courtroom,” Michael soothed. “Not with the spells that we threw up to protect ourselves.”  _

_ “You present a fair point,” Samuel smirked. “But also, consider this: I really like feeling how much stronger you are compared to me.”  _

_ “You like feeling helpless in my arms?” Michael purred. “Like being held down and made to take whatever I give you?” _

_ “Yes!” Samuel moaned.  _

_ “Good,” Michael groaned before he began fucking him in earnest.  _

_ There was something incredibly taboo about fucking in the courtroom even though the courthouse was completely empty. He was enjoying the publicness of it and the thrill of someone possibly breaking through the spells and catching them  _ in flagrante delicto. 

_ He knew that the image that they were currently painting is  _ incredibly  _ erotic. Samuel was in one of his chocolate brown suits with a dark green shirt. The tie had been lost ages ago, if Samuel had even worn one to begin with. Michael honestly couldn't remember. He was bent over and pinned to the witness stand, his claws digging into the warm colored wood as the black leather gloves laid discarded at their feet. Michael himself was wearing one of his signature black suits with a crisp white shirt. His red and gold paisley tie had been undone from its usual trinity knot and the first three buttons of his shirt had been undone exposing his broad chest to the room. His hips were snapping into Samuel with enough force that if the witness stand wasn't bolted into the floor, it would be moving. Samuel would  _ definitely  _ be limping by the time that Michael was done with him but the Angel knew that that was the way the Cambion liked it. He was certain that Samuel’s eyes, no matter the color, would be shining with lust and sexual satisfaction.  _

_ “I'm never going to be able to question a witness seriously again,” Michael breathed into Samuel’s ear, “because all I'm going to see is you bent over the stand in absolute bliss and me fucking you.”  _

_ “Mi,” Samuel managed to mewl. _

_ “Maybe after we're done here,” Michael continued as he pretended that he didn't hear Samuel, “we'll get onto the judges bench and have you ride me. Or maybe I'll lay you out in the jury box and have my wicked way with you there. Which do you think it should be Samuel? Judge or jury?”  _

_ “Judge!” Samuel gasped. “Mi. Please. I'm close.”  _

_ “You're close huh?” Michael chuckled. “Well I guess that I better let you cum hmm?”  _

_ Samuel came with a cry- _

Michael woke up with a startled shout as he came across his belly. Thankfully this time his wings were tucked away. 

He laid there for a time, basking in post orgasmic bliss as he reflected on the wet dream before he absolutely  _ had  _ to clean himself up and begin his day. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something he was forgetting, but he blissfully dismissed the feeling. He had also never been one to entertain the possibility of public sex because he had never seen the thrill of potentially getting caught. Not to mention that he would have to fake his own death and flee in order to not feel the shame of being caught in such a private intimate act. But thanks to this dream… well Michael could now see the appeal of fucking in the courthouse where anyone could see them. He sighed as he imagined the claw marks left on the witness stand. Heaven’s light that would be a sight to see. 

He looked over at the clock.  **0537** blinked at him. He was due to get up in an hour. “Well,” he said out loud. “No time like the present to get on with my day.” 

As he rose, nude, from his bed, he mentally went through his schedule for the morning. 

_ Clean up, just use a washcloth. Do martial arts on the dummies due to now having time for that. Shower, eat breakfast, go to the office. Plea bargaining with Samuel for the medical malpractice case at 0930. Meeting with the Hon. Chuck concerning the civil trial case dockets for Thursday at 1100. Take lunch and consult with Anael about the afternoon. Send out reminder about my vacation day on Friday.  _

Pleased with how his schedule for the morning was laid out, Michael smiled as he rinsed out the washcloth he had used to get rid of his drying cum and set it down. He was in a rare good mood and he knew why. 

Orgasms were always a great way to start the day. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Lucifer helps Michael with a few things

“So,” Lucifer began as he and Michael sat in their favorite diner for breakfast, “has a certain Cambion thanked you for saving him from a  _ go-nach?” _

“Lucifer, you know the answer to that,” Michael sighed as he sipped his coffee. 

“Verbally,” Lucifer said. “I’m talking about him, say, taking you out for dinner, or sending you a bottle of wine. You know, giving you a  _ physical  _ token of his gratitude.” 

“That he hasn't done,” Michael said, “although I'm fairly sure that that's not what you mean by a ‘physical token of his gratitude’.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Lucifer grinned shamelessly. “But honestly Mick- nothing?” 

“Nothing,” Michael confirmed. “And my feelings for him have gotten  _ worse _ .” 

Lucifer’s eyebrow arched elegantly at that. “Oh really now?” he asked mildly.

“I can't set foot in the courtroom without becoming hard,” Michael groaned. “I get hot watching him work a witness over. I can't stop thinking about him. By God's throne, I had a sex dream the other night about fucking him while he was bent over the witness stand!” 

Lucifer inhaled and consequently choked on his coffee. Michael watched Lucifer struggle to get function of his body back. “Don't choke and die,” he deadpanned. 

“I'm sorry,” Lucifer managed to wheeze, massaging his throat, “but I could have sworn that you just said that you had a wet dream about fucking Samuel in the courtroom.” 

“You heard correctly,” Michael admitted his ears turning pink. 

“Kinky,” Lucifer said. He tabled the conversation as the waitress brought over their breakfast plates and leaving before continuing. “But I also know that if you didn't genuinely care about him, you would have never stood up for him and saved his life. Or maybe you would have, because you love justice, but you wouldn't have brought him home, healed him to the best of your ability, and let him stay the night. You safeguard your privacy too much for that.” 

“I know,” Michael sighed. “and I want that again except with him laying in bed with me. With him tearing down my walls as I tear down his.” 

“That,” Lucifer declared, “is the most romantic thing that I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Michael of the White Feathers.” 

Michael flushed. “But I can’t,” he said. 

“Why not?” Lucifer asked around a mouthful of bacon and sausage. 

“It violates ethics!” Michael said. “I know that that word and idea is a foreign concept to you journalists-” 

“We have ethics!” Lucifer protested against his older brother’s jab at his profession. “It’s just that our ethics are more directed at ‘cite your sources, even if said source is anonymous’ and ‘don’t claim shit that you didn’t write as yours’.” 

“Whatever, Luce,” Michael sighed. “The fact of the matter is, if it were to be discovered that Samuel and I were involved in a sexual and/or romantic relationship, we wouldn’t ever be allowed to practice law against each other again. Internal Affairs would get involved. One or both of us could lose our right to practice law!” 

“One, I understand. Perhaps some of the other public pretenders or paid reasonably defense attorneys will grow a spine and try to outwit you,” Lucifer said before taking a long drink of his coffee. “Two, Internal Affairs is someone no one wants to deal with, but we all have to. And three, I highly doubt it. You are the Grand Prosecutor, the third eldest being in the world. Samuel is the son of a very old, very powerful Yellow Eyed Demon. The two of you are immune to a lot of things. The two of you may not be above the law, but you’re pretty damn close.” 

“I hate the concept of nepotism,” Michael sighed. 

“I know,” Lucifer said, “but it sure as fuck comes in handy.” 

Michael shrugged and sighed. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Lucifer said softly. 

“I know,” Michael sighed. “I do too.” 

“Then chase your feelings, Mick,” Lucifer urged. “Be selfish for once.” 

“Tempter,” Michael grumbled good naturedly. 

“The horns hold up my halo,” Lucifer replied cheekily before changing the subject. “Golf or tennis, Mick? The weather is gorgeous enough for either one.” 

“Tennis,” Michael said. “How’s things with you and Gadreel of the Grey Feathers?” 

Lucifer beamed. “Wonderfully,” he said. “I love him, Mick.” 

Michael smiled, glad to see his younger brother so happy. “I’m so glad to hear that,” he said. “You deserve it. 

“So do you, Michael,” Lucifer smiled. “So do you.” 

“We’ll see what fate holds for me,” Michael said. “Ready to pay and head out?” 

“Yup,” Lucifer said. “After lunch, we’re doing a movie, right?” 

“Musical,” Michael corrected. “We saw one of your movies the last time. It’s a musical this time.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes good naturedly, laughing as Michael maturely kicked his shin. 

Somehow, talking to Lucifer about Samuel and his own personal feelings for the Cambion made Michael feel a whole lot better about the situation. 

Now he just needed to have the courage to ask Samuel out for dinner. Not a date, just dinner between colleagues. 

_ Baby steps.  _


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vivid wet dream makes Michael wonder if he was ever going to get rid of these feelings

Michael ran his hands over the planes of Samuel’s back, his thumbs brushing in light, but firm circles over the taut muscles, feeling them relax. “Feel better?” he asked softly. 

“Mhm, thanks,” Samuel yawned sleepily. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Michael smiled as he leaned down to nip at the shell of the Cambion’s ear. “I don’t think that somnophilia is a kink that we both have.” 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Samuel murmured with a half asleep chuckle. 

“True,” Michael said, “but I think that right now, you should be awake and active while I slide into you and fuck you full.” 

“Be active? After  that? ” Samuel scoffed. “What drugs are you on, and why the fuck aren’t you sharing them with me?” 

Michael laughed and kissed Samuel’s neck. “I am completely and one hundred percent drunk on you,” he said. 

“Dork,” Samuel snorted as he tilted his head to offer Michael more of his neck. 

Michael took up the offering, kissing and nipping at the soft skin beneath his lips. Samuel gave soft little sighs and whimpers as the Angel worked him over. 

Michael’s fingers ducked into the cleft of Samuel’s ass, seeking out his slick and already well used hole. “You’re still so tight for me,” he purred as he sank two fingers deep into his lover. 

Samuel groaned as Michael scissored him open, clutching the pillows tightly. 

“I may have to massage your hands after I fuck you,” Michael murmured softly. 

“That would be nice,” Samuel sighed as Michael continued to open him up. “Mi, please.” 

“You think you’re ready for me, my little Cambion?” Michael asked in a soft, playful voice. 

“Still open and wet from earlier,” Samuel chuckled, wiggling underneath Michael. “Fuck me open, please.” 

“So polite,” Michael murmured. “Remember, though: Lucifer’s asleep down the hallway.” 

“I can be quiet,” Samuel said. “Can you?” 

Michael traced a line along Samuel’s neck before whispering. “Can I mark you if it’ll help me stay quiet?” 

“Absolutely,” Samuel breathed. “Mark me up, Michael. Let me show off who I have in my bed.”

Michael groaned as he withdrew his fingers from Samuel’s hole. He covered the body beneath him with his own and angled his cock. “Ready?” 

“More than, just stick it in,” Samuel huffed impatiently. 

“Good things come to those who wait,” Michael teased. 

“Just fuck me,” Samuel groaned. “Mi,  please.”

“If you insist,” Michael purred as he began to press into him. As Samuel’s hot heat enveloped him, he leaned down and bit down on the other man’s neck  hard , causing him to cry out unexpectedly in pleasure. 

“Shh,” Michael laughed softly as he removed his teeth but not his lips from Samuel’s skin. “Do you want Lucifer to hear how sweet you sound on my cock?” 

“The bite felt  really  good,” Samuel admitted softly. “Did you pierce skin?” 

“Not that I can taste,” Michael said, soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue. He felt Samuel shiver underneath of him pleasurably. 

“Good; not that I’d mind if you did,” Samuel chuckled. “Come on. Get to actually fucking me. You’ve got a job to do.” 

“You’re so bossy,” Michael laughed. “What’s the magic word?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Michael!” Samuel whined. 

“Say the magic word, or this is all you’re getting,” Michael sing-songed. 

“Miiii,” Samuel whimpered. “Move,  please. ”

“There we go,” Michael crooned. “Such a good little Cambion for me.” And with that, his teeth refound their place in Samuel’s neck. 

Samuel buried his head into the pillow underneath his head to muffle the sounds of his pleasure as Michael started to suck on the salty skin as he fucked him hard and fast, nailing Samuel’s prostate on each and every thrust. 

Neither Angel or Cambion made much noise other than grunts and moans, extensive vocabularies reduced beyond measure as Michael fucked Samuel into the mattress. Even those noises were muffled by skin and fabric. Michael sucked and bit at the Cambion’s neck, the Angel declaring in that moment that the man who was in ecstasy beneath him was  his,  and his  alone. 

“Close!” Samuel managed to gasp, his claws tearing open the soft pillow beneath him. 

“Cum,” Michael commanded. 

Samuel shook and shuddered, falling apart just as he was ordered to do. He rutted against the bed, making a mess of it. 

“So good for me,” Michael praised, kissing the blossoming label of possession that he was leaving on Samuel’s neck. “My perfect little Cambion.” 

Samuel moaned, a dopey smile on his face as he turned his head to look at Michael. “Gonna fill me up again, Mi?” 

“Yes,” MIchael groaned, gritting his teeth as Samuel decided to clench  hard  around him. “Fuck!” 

“That’s precisely what you’re doing right now,” Samuel chuckled. “Please… make me full again, Mi.”

Michael awoke with a cry as he, once again, came hard, rutting against his bed forcefully. 

He groaned when he finished and rolled over, away from the wet spot and just laid there, breathing heavily. He could feel the last of his brain cells leaving his mind as he closed his eyes. 

That wet dream was completely a dirty, domestic dream, which Michael did not mind at all -- in fact, he  welcomed  it. It was sweet and tender, yet full of youthful exuberance and passion, a perfect cocktail of sexual satisfaction and platonic pleasure. It was something that he craved, and this dream was proof of that. 

He groaned as he stretched, frowning as he felt the wet spot. He’d have to change his sheets. It was time to change them anyways; however, he hadn’t anticipated doing so on a Sunday morning. 

Sighing, he got up and began gathering up his soiled linens. He’ll throw them into the washer, clean up with a hot shower, remake his bed and then throw the sheets up on the clothesline in the garden before catching a few more hours of sleep.

He could only hope that the sheets would finish drying before he had to leave for the office. He had a grand jury meeting to attend pertaining to a child abuse case, a writ of  habeas corpus  to disprove, and a plea deal to a member of the local drug cartel. All cases that involved Samuel. 

He should be good. ‘Should’ being the key word. 

  
**** ~~~~


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation of the unexpected sort throws Michael off and he thinks the worst.

“I can’t believe that it’s lunchtime already,” Michael sighed as he wet the travel comb he keeps in his pocket. 

“You and me both,” Samuel groaned as he grabbed and a brush and a hair tie out of his briefcase. “And I’m  _ still  _ probably not going to see the inside of my office today. Good thing that my paralegal is patient.” 

“Yours and mine,” Michael sighed as he began to restyle his hair. “Patience of saints, I tell you.”

Samuel laughed as he brushed his hair into a small ponytail and tied it off. “Agreed,” he said. “Just my opinion, that grand jury took way too long to consider indicting him.” 

“Absolutely,” Michael agreed as he put more effort into fixing his hair, having caught himself staring at Samuel while he was grooming. “Then again, from the evidence that I’ve seen, he’s guilty. I wouldn’t have had a problem indicting him.” 

“Most likely,” Samuel agreed. “But I can’t say whether he is or not.” He winked at Michael. The Angel felt his heart race at the gesture. 

“Of course not,” he said as he undid the ever loosening tie. He readjusted his shirt. “What’s your opinion on the  _ habeas corpus  _ outcome?” 

“I knew that it was a long shot,” Samuel confessed, “but the precedents were sound, and cases have been won on less. However, I’m not disappointed that it didn’t go through.” 

“What about your client?” Michael asked as he sprayed cologne on before he slid his tie back onto his neck. 

“Mad as fuck,” Samuel said. “I’m hoping that I can get her to agree to lesser charges in exchange for time served and a year of probation.” 

“I’d be willing to accept that,” Michael said as he carefully tied his tie. 

Samuel smiled. “Can I get that in writing?” he asked as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. 

For some reason, the combination of Samuel stripping and saying those words went  _ straight  _ to Michael’s cock. He had to remind himself that Samuel had asked him a question and was looking for an answer. “Of course. When I get back to the office, I’ll type it up and sign it before I fax it over,” he replied, looking over at Samuel. 

That’s when he saw it. 

On the left side of Samuel’s neck, just underneath the collar, was a large, dark blue and black bruise. 

And not just any kind of bruise. 

A hickie. 

And Michael recognized the hickie, mainly because he could still see the teeth impressions that were left behind in Samuel’s skin. 

Those were  _ his  _ teeth marks. That was  _ his  _ hickie that he left on Samuel’s neck. 

Michael’s brain short circuited. 

_ How did he  _ actually  _ get that?!  _ Michael asked himself, staring gobsmacked at the hickie.  _ I was alone! It was just a dream! Right?! _

He must’ve dream walked. Right into Samuel’s dream. And through his own will, left his mark on Samuel without his consent. That was the only logical explanation.  _ FUCK! _

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he announced as he left the bathroom. 

“You are in a-” the door shut behind Michael as he took off. 

He couldn’t believe that he had violated Samuel’s trust like that. And all because he thought with his cock and not with his head.  _ You’re so fucking stupid, Michael! Now you’ve lost him! _

_ Perhaps I was never meant to have him,  _ Michael thought sadly. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer forces Michael to take action

Michael took the rest of the week off from work. He wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t. He was just coming up with multiple game plans for each scenario of if Samuel ever figured out that it was  _ him  _ who left the most probably unwelcome hickie in history. 

At least, that was what he was telling himself. 

In reality, he  _ was  _ hiding. Michael was a being who prided himself on consent and mutuality of pleasure and consideration. The idea that he, most likely, dream raped Samuel was mortifying, embarrassing and above all, astonishing.

And illegal. 

Now, he had no hopes of ever being with Samuel. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. A big fat goose egg. 

Fortunately, everyone left him alone the rest of Monday, all of Tuesday, and all of Wednesday. It gave him the freedom to mope. 

Thursday, however, came in the form of Lucifer dropping in. 

“Go away,” Michael grumbled as he stared at the TV, where he was watching  _ Marley and Me _ , a gallon of fudge brownie ice cream half eaten in his lap. 

“Nope,” Lucifer said, plopping down next to his brother. “Not when you’ve gone into hiding without giving a reason as to why.” 

“I’m not hiding,” Michael protested. “I… just needed time to myself. That’s all.” 

Lucifer snorted. “Michael of the White Feathers, the Grand Prosecutor and former General of His Army, take a week off for alone time? Do I have to remind you that just last year, we had to barricade you into your room because you wanted to go to court but couldn’t due to you having caught a severe case of the Angel flu? Or when you broke your wing and we had to splint  _ both  _ of them so your dumb ass didn’t fly? You could be deader than a doornail and you would still find a way to come into work.” 

Michael huffed, but didn’t contradict Lucifer. 

“So would you like to tell me why you’re hiding out, watching sad movies and eating ice cream like you just had a break up?” Lucifer asked, concern deeply inlaid in his voice. 

Michael sighed and paused the movie. “Promise me that you won’t think less of me?” he asked softly. 

“As long as you haven’t turned to necrophilia or beastiality,” Lucifer promised. 

Michael sighed again. “Sunday night, I had another wet dream about Samuel,” he began. “And in it, I left a hickie on his neck.” 

“Hot,” Lucifer grinned. 

Michael shot his brother a tired bitch face. “So, Monday after the grand jury indictment and the  _ habeas corpus  _ hearing, Samuel and I were freshening up in the bathroom and talking shop. He undid his shirt and I saw the hickie that I left. In the same place that I dreamt I left it, with  _ my  _ teeth marks.” He buried his face in his hands. “I must’ve dream walked, hijacked his dream, and left a damn hickie without his consent. I fucking dream raped him, Lucifer. And now I’m sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.” 

Lucifer mulled over Michael’s words in his head while the Grand Prosecutor chowed down on some more ice cream. 

“Did Samuel say anything about it?” Lucifer asked, in journalist mode. 

Michael shook his head, his mouth full of ice cream. 

“Then how do you know that it wasn’t consensual?” Lucifer asked. 

“I don’t exactly recall him saying, ‘hey, you can dream walk into my dreams, turn them dirty, and leave a sign saying  _ Michael was here _ ’,” Michael replied dryly.

“Okay,” Lucifer sighed. “Have you talked to him about it?” 

Michael shook his head. 

“What did you do when you realized that that was your hickie?” Lucifer asked patiently. 

Michael sighed. “I said I needed to use the restroom… and left the restroom.” 

Lucifer sighed heavily and face palmed. “And then you took the rest of the week off and you’ve been hiding out at home, watching sad movies and eating ice cream. How much ice cream have you eaten?” 

“Can we not?” Michael whined. 

“At least three gallons, huh?” 

“Five,” Michael sighed. “I inhaled a gallon and a half Monday when I got home.” 

“By Satan’s nutsack, Michael!” Lucifer exhaled. 

“What else did you expect me to do?” Michael whimpered, eating another spoonful of ice cream. 

Lucifer huffed and moved the ice cream out of Michael’s lap. “I expected you to be a lot more suave, and still work.” 

“I wish,” Michael sighed. “But I’m not even sure if Samuel wants to work with me ever again. I know I wouldn’t if the roles were reversed.” 

Lucifer sighed. “Listen, I’m going to get some food for us. Wings and beer?” 

“Honey garlic and parmesan?” Michael asked as he looked up at Lucifer. 

“Sure,” Lucifer smiled. “And I’ll also grab some of that mud shit you call beer.” 

“Stouts and extra stouts are  _ excellent  _ beers,” Michael sniffed. 

“If you say so, Mickey,” Lucifer smiled. “You gonna be okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Michael smiled. “Thanks, Luce.” 

“Of course,” Lucifer said. “Be back in two flicks of a cherub’s wings.” And with that, he left. 

Michael sighed and closed his eyes. He could take a short nap while Lucifer fetched wings and beer. 

Two hours went by, and Michael was getting worried. He prayed to his brother and his prayers went unanswered, a rarity for Lucifer to do unless he was mad at him. Sighing, he just waited. 

Suddenly, the doorbell chirped and he sighed. “You  _ can  _ just walk in, you know, you dumb fuck,” he called as he went to answer the door. He discreetly checked to make sure that his ‘protection’ knife was on the table by the door before answering it, expecting Lucifer with the wings and beer and just being unable to open the door. 

Instead, Samuel stood there, with the wings and beer and a sheepish smile. His eyes were a warm, kind hazel. 

“We need to talk,” he said. “May I come in?” 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel talk

Michael stared at Samuel as he allowed him to come in. “What did Lucifer do?” he said. 

“Lucifer came over with the wings and beer,” Samuel said, coming in and setting the aforementioned food down on the coffee table, “and explained what had happened on Monday.” 

_ I’m going to murder that little bitch,  _ Michael thought sourly. “Oh.” 

“And, I’m going to be honest, I kind of laughed,” Samuel admitted. He sat down and popped open a beer. Michael followed suit. “But only because it’s completely  _ wrong. _ ” 

Michael raised a brow. 

“You didn’t dream walk at all, I did,” Samuel admitted. “And I have been for a while.” 

“You… you dream walked into  _ my  _ dreams?” Michael repeated. 

“Yeah,” Samuel said. “Should I have asked for permission? Hell yeah, and for that I apologize for invading your dreams without permission. But I was… curious.” 

“About what?” Michael asked. 

“What kind of dreams could make the Grand Prosecutor, one of the most stoic looking men I know, look absolutely and positively disheveled,” Samuel said. “The first few times, I didn’t interfere. I just wanted to observe. I wanted to see what you dream about, what makes you feel good, that sort of thing. And then I… may’ve inserted a few suggestions here and there to make them more interesting, so to speak.” 

“Like fucking you over the witness stand,” Michael said as it dawned on him. 

“Exactly,” Samuel said. “Like fucking me over the witness stand. I placed in the suggestion of us fucking in a public place with a high potential of getting caught. You’re the one who took that suggestion and placed it in the courtroom.” He smirked. 

“Wait, so does that-” 

“I think it’s fairly obvious that the attraction and desire is mutual, Michael,” Samuel chuckled darkly, taking a long pull from his beer. “And has been for a while. It’s just…” 

“Your species,” Michael said softly. 

Samuel nodded. “Precisely. My species. Only Humans and other  _ Lo-Zhangs  _ would want to get with me, and I haven’t been involved with anyone serious since Jessica and Tyson. It… it broke me. For a long while. It took a lot of time to deal with that. And so, when I realized that my attraction for you was reciprocated, I… I jumped.” 

“So…” Michael said slowly, “You dream walking into my wet dreams was your way of saying ‘please take me’?” 

“I know, it’s fucked up, and I could be facing charges,” Samuel admitted. “But… can you blame me?” 

“No,” Michael said softly. “No, I don’t blame you at all. And I don’t mind. Not really. I haven’t… No one’s ever dream walked into my head before.” 

Samuel smirked. “So I’m special in that regard.” 

“Yes,” Michael said with a smile. He took a wing from the box and began eating it. “So the hickie I left was completely consensual?” 

“Oh yeah,” Samuel laughed. “I enjoy being marked up. I like being labeled as someone’s.” 

Michael smiled. “Good,” he said, looking Samuel over. The defense attorney was clad in dark grey sweatpants and a red T-shirt, the hickie on full display. It was fading into the yellow of a bruise that’s been around for a while, but it was still there. Michael felt a twinge of pride at that. “Because I liked it too.” 

“So what say you,” Samuel said, “We eat these wings and drink some of the beer, and then we fuck?” 

Michael choked a little bit on his beer. “You want to do  _ what? _ ” he wheezed. 

“I would much rather you be choking on cock than on beer,” Samuel said dryly. “I want to fuck. Do you?” 

“Well, yes, but the ethical-” 

“Fuck ethics,” Samuel said. “We’re two completely consenting adults. If no one else knows that we boned, then who cares about the ethics?” 

Michael did not have a counter argument to that. 

Samuel smirked and drank his beer. “Eat and drink up, Michael,” he said. “You’re going to need your strength.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel fuck

Michael groaned as he pressed Samuel against the wall, kissing him desperately. 

Dinner was spent in quiet anticipation of what was to come, eating the wings, drinking the beer, and just exchanging idle chitchat. The two of them had been keyed up, but both of the men managed to keep their cool until everything was put up and thrown away. Once that was accomplished, Michael kissed Samuel. 

He began walking the taller man back towards his bedroom, attacking Samuel’s mouth with a fierce voracity. Samuel gave it back as good as he got, nipping insistently at Michael’s bottom lip. 

By God’s throne, this was so much better than any of the numerous wet dreams that Michael’s ever had about fucking Samuel, and there was yet more to come. 

He managed to open his bedroom door and shoved Samuel into his room, closing the door behind them. 

Samuel took a brief look around before he turned back to Michael, his eyes a violet red with lust and desire. “How do you want to do this?” he asked roughly through kiss-bitten lips. 

Michael groaned. “On your back,” he said, crossing over to Samuel and roughly jerking his shirt up and over his head. “I want to see your face when I first slide into you, and when you cum just from my cock and my cock alone.” 

Samuel moaned and tugged Michael’s shirt off. He gave an appreciative whistle at his physique and the ancient battle scars that covered the Angel’s chest. “By the Fallen Ones, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned. 

“I’m glad that you think so,” Michael murmured, running his hands over the planes of Samuel’s chest. “You are a handsome creature yourself.” 

Samuel smirked. He traced the long scar that went down the center of Michael’s chest. “Not nearly as handsome as you,” he said. 

“Bullshit,” Michael snorted, clasping the gloved hands in front of him. “You are just as handsome, if not more handsome, than I am.” 

Samuel gave a chuckle. “If you insist,” he said. 

“I do, so there,” Michael smiled. His hands released the other man’s and dropped down to his waist, looking at Samuel to ask for permission. Receiving Samuel’s nod, he slowly brought the sweatpants down, exposing Samuel’s long, thick, throbbing cock. “Were you expecting to get fucked?” he teased. 

“Underwear is tedious, and I rarely find a pair that I like in my size,” Samuel shrugged with a smirk. “The fact that it makes for easier access is just a bonus.” 

“So you’re almost always going commando,” Michael said. 

Samuel nodded, and Michael groaned, imagining his lover in a suit with his cock hanging out, begging to be sucked. “That’s really hot,” he admitted. 

Samuel smirked and stepped back slightly. The protesting whimper half died in Michael’s throat as Samuel slowly removed his gloves.

Samuel’s fingers were long and lean, his nails looking more like talons as they flexed. The entirety of the hands from the wrists down to fingertips were black as pitch, the veins thick and showing through the skin. 

Michael took one of Samuel’s hands and kissed it tenderly. “Your hands are beautiful,” he whispered softly. 

“You’re the only one besides my Sire and Mom who think so,” Samuel murmured. “Well, Jess and Ty did, but-” 

“I understand,” Michael cut him off gently. He kissed the tip of the talon and smirked. “And I think that I’m overdressed for what we plan on doing.” 

“I believe that you’re right,” Samuel purred, fingers reaching down and curling into the waistband of Michael’s pants. “Shall I take care of that for you, my strong Angel?” 

Michael could’ve sworn that his heart turned into a butterfly when he heard Samuel call him  _ my strong Angel. _ “Yes, my sweet Cambion,” he whispered. 

Samuel gave a full bodied shiver. “It sounds so much better to hear that outside of dreams,” he said, slowly pulling Michael’s sweats down, exposing the Angel’s hard cock. “Also expecting to fuck?” he teased.

“Underwear and sweatpants don’t mix,” Michael shrugged. 

“Fair,” Samuel agreed, wrapping a hand gently around Michael’s cock. “Fuck, you’re going to fill me up nicely,” he purred. 

“I can imagine so,” Michael murmured darkly. “Your hole is going to be a tight one, isn’t it?” 

“Not as tight as yours,” Samuel smirked, “but still tight enough for me to feel every inch of you sinking into me.” 

“You’re a little brat,” Michael laughed, swatting Samuel’s flank. “I should punish you for your insolence.” 

“Oh, Angel,” Samuel drawled, batting his lashes in a playful, mocking way. “Don’t threaten me with a damn good time.” 

“Do you want to be?” Michael asked, playfully grabbing Samuel’s wrists as he stepped out of his sweats. 

“Maybe later,” Samuel laughed as he pretended to struggle in Michael’s grasp. “Tonight, I want to touch and savour you, Michael.” 

“Perfect,” Michael said, backing Samuel up towards the bed. “Now comes a very important question that I’m going to ask you.” 

“My safeword is clowns,” Samuel said, letting Michael back him up and into the bed. 

“Good to know, but that wasn’t my question,” Michael replied before he gently shoved Samuel onto the bed. “I was going to ask you how you wanted to be prepped.” 

Samuel laid down and stretched out. “What are my options?” he asked. 

“Well, I can snap my fingers and open you up with my magic,” Michael said, ticking the options off on his fingers, “I could use my fingers and some lube; or I could eat you out.” 

Samuel groaned and thought it over. Michael waited patiently, passing the time by looking the Cambion over, admiring the way that his legs were splayed open, showing off his runner’s calves and putting the hard cock on display; the way his arms were tucked behind his head so casually and shamelessly putting his entire body on display. He had found an absolute Adonis of a man, and the Angel gave himself a pat on the back. 

“I think that I’m going to go with the rimming,” Samuel murmured softly. 

Michael smirked and settled down on his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabbed Samuel’s ankles, making him yelp in surprise as the Grand Prosecutor tugged the defense attorney towards the edge of the bed. Michael then draped Samuel’s legs over his shoulders and cupped his ass. The hole nestled between his cheeks winked at him, fluttering in anticipation of what was to come. 

“Ready?” Michael asked. 

“Sure am,” Samuel said in a tone that clearly said  _ do your worst; I won’t break.  _

Michael gave a dark chuckle before leaning into Samuel, licking him from the bottom of his hole to his taint. 

“FUCK!” 

Michael smiled to himself before diving in. 

Samuel’s odor was rich and dark, yet very clean. His taste was the same way, which was good. Michael licked and licked, using both long, broad strokes with the flat of his tongue and short, quick, kitten licks with just the tip, his eyes closing in bliss. He nibbled along the Cambion’s hole intermittently, before latching his lips around it and sucking on it hard. 

The only sounds Michael cared to hear at the moment were the sounds that Samuel was making. He was sounding more and more wrecked the longer Michael ate him out. Praises intermingled with curses to name amidst the whimpers and pleas for more, his hips rolling in encouragement, begging for Michael to give him what he needed. Michael had no doubt that Samuel was getting close. 

Slowly, but surely, Samuel’s hole opened for Michael, and just when Samuel least expected it, the Angel thrust his tongue into the tight heat. 

Samuel howled, and Michael smirked to himself as he tongue fucked him. He was going to make Samuel  _ beg  _ for his cock. 

It wasn’t long after Michael began tongue fucking him that Samuel began begging. 

“For the love of Heaven, Michael,” Samuel whined oh so sweetly, “Please,  _ please  _ fuck me.” 

“Do you think that you’re ready for me?” Michael asked as he drew his mouth away and admired the way that Samuel’s body was quivering in need. 

“Yes, Mi, please, now,” Samuel begged. 

“If you insist,” Michael said, giving Samuel’s pert ass a sharp bite, making him yip. Chuckling, the Angel stood up and slipped between the Cambion’s thighs. 

“Ready, my little Cambion?” Michael whispered. 

“Can I see your wings, please?” Samuel whispered back. 

Michael chuckled and nodded. He rolled out his shoulders, calling his wings forth with the motion. They spread out slowly, the feathers quietly rustling into position as he opened them. The two large, white wings were soon out and in their full glory, arching high above them and showing off in the low light of the room. 

“Gorgeous,” Samuel breathed, “absolutely fucking gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” Michael murmured. His wings fluttered closer to them. A feather caressed Samuel’s face and he leaned into the touch, his eyes closed. 

“Ready?” Michael asked again, somewhat impatiently. 

“Yes,” Samuel replied. 

Michael angled his cock and slowly pressed into Samuel’s hole. He groaned as the tight heat wrapped around his cock. Samuel moaned loudly, arching into Michael. His fingers clutched at Michael’s wings greedily, making him moan. 

“You’re so thick,” Samuel whispered huskily. “By Heaven, I can feel every inch of you.” 

“Good,” Michael purred as he bottomed out inside of Samuel. The wings covered the two of them, making the intimate moment even more so. “How do you feel?” 

“Fuckin’ full as fuck,” Samuel moaned, clenching around Michael’s cock and therefore pulling a groan from him. “And so fuckin’ good.” 

Michael had fully intended to let Samuel adjust to him and to reign in the loud voice in his head demanding to just  _ plow  _ into the Cambion like his life depended on it. That was the Angel’s intention. 

However, there’s a reason that they say that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, which is why there is a highway to Hell but only a stairway to Heaven. And perhaps Samuel was meant to be his salvation (or his temptation, Michael’s not sure), because he was clenching around his cock like a vice, and he was whimpering so sweetly, and the last of Michael’s careful self control was snapping slowly. 

It snapped completely and utterly when Samuel reached up and grasped fistfuls of Michael’s wings, black against white, attacking and squeezing and tugging. Michael growled and began pounding into Samuel. 

Samuel cried out as Michael thrusted powerfully into him, clenching onto Michael’s wings tighter and harder. He threw his head back in pleasure and howled. 

Michael, for his part, had his head bowed, his hands placed on either side of Samuel’s head and clutching the cotton sheets below. His wings flapped in the Cambion’s hands, still shielding them from the world as the Angel continued to use his legs to powerfully fuck his lover. Groans and grunts echoed from his throat, a deep and dark harmony to the sweet melody of Samuel’s moans and soft cries of pleasure. 

Fucking Samuel felt  _ good  _ and  _ right,  _ his body arching and moving closer to Michael as the frantic pace of their union increased, both of them taking pleasure from each other, connecting on a deeper level than before. They didn’t care about the world, the amount of case files on their desks at their respective offices, or the amount of ethical violations that they were committing by sleeping with each other. They didn’t care; in these moments, it didn’t matter to them. 

The world would move along as it always does while Samuel tugged firmly on Michael’s feathers, eliciting a startled and aroused gasp of  _ more  _ and Michael complying. 

There were always going to be mountains of case files on their desks; the cases were currently irrelevant as Michael ducked his head down and bit Samuel for real in the same spot that his dream-self had. 

As for the ethical rules, well, ethical rules didn’t hold any sway in the consensual contract of coital congress where for consent, one received boundless pleasure and sexual satisfaction. 

“‘M close,” Samuel gasped, his entire body tensing for the grand finale. 

“You’re close?” Michael murmured roughly, drawing back from Samuel’s neck to gaze wide eyed at the man beneath him. Saints preserve him, Samuel was  _ gorgeous _ . 

“Yes, Mi,” Samuel mewled sweetly. 

Michael was close, too, and as much as he wanted to continue fucking Samuel, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Cum, then,” Michael coaxed. “Cum for me, my sweet little Cambion.” 

Samuel moaned and gasped, so very noticeably on the edge of falling over into a pool of bliss. 

“ _ Cum for me, my sweet Cambion, _ ” Michael whispered again, this time in Enochian. “ _ Give yourself over to absolute pleasure, and scream my name. _ ” 

Samuel snapped, his back arching as he came hard. His hole clenched tightly around him, and Samuel tugged  _ hard  _ on Michael’s feathers as his body shook. 

Michael continued to thrust into him, fucking Samuel through his orgasm as he felt the tension in his body build up more and more. 

And then he came with a triumphant roar, Samuel moaning as Michael flooded him full with his hot release. 

Michael finished shortly after and slumped against Samuel, lips seeking skin and kissing him deeply. 

For the next several minutes, all Michael and Samuel did was hold each other close and kiss, smiling softly as they basked in the afterglow. They were content with doing nothing more than that, and would have continued had they the opportunity to do so. However, the nature of drying cum soon came to call. 

“We should probably clean up,” Samuel murmured after a time, pecking Michael’s lips.

“Yes, but that requires moving, and do you  _ really  _ want to move?” Michael chuckled lazily. 

“Not really,” Samuel laughed softly, “But the cum is drying and we should be comfortable to go to sleep. We’ve got court in the morning, after all.” 

Michael huffed playfully and smiled. “If you insist,” he said, kissing Samuel’s nose. He then pulled out slowly, both of them groaning as Michael’s cock was freed from Samuel’s hole. Samuel gave a sleepy wave of his hand and the mess of drying cum on his stomach disappeared without a trace. Michael flopped down next to Samuel and tugged him close. He wrapped his arms around him and used his wings as blankets. 

“This is nice,” Samuel mumbled sleepily. 

“Mhm,” Michael yawned. He tucked Samuel in tighter to him and kissed his hair. “Good night, Samuel.” 

“Night, Michael,” Samuel sighed, already half asleep. 

Michael just smiled and closed his eyes to fall into the easiest deep sleep he’s had in recent memory. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel go on a date

Michael carefully finished tying his tie before turning and looking at Lucifer. “Well? How do I look?” he asked. 

“With your eyes, Mikey,” Lucifer grinned. He looked Michael over critically before he gave his opinion in the form of a headline. It sounded like a tabloid. “ _ Local Prosecutor Has No Idea What the Fuck ‘Casual’ Means, _ ” he announced dramatically. 

“So, you hate it,” Michael sighed as he gestured uselessly. 

“Not entirely,” Lucifer soothed. “It’s just… you look  _ uncomfortable. _ And you’d be overdressed.” 

“To quote Oscar Wilde, ‘you can never be overdressed or overeducated’,” Michael recited. 

Lucifer snorted as he ducked into his older brother’s closet. “Yes, in fact you  _ can  _ be both of those things,” he informed him as he threw a dark green polo at his brother. 

“Why not red?” Michael asked as he looked at the polo and undid his tie with one hand. “Red invokes lust and hunger.” 

“While that may be very true,” Lucifer said in agreement, “the green will bring out your eyes. Trust me on this.” 

“Okay, I trust you,” Michael said. “Are slacks alright?” 

“No, but I do know of a dress pant that will be perfect for this,” Lucifer said. 

Michael pouted. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Lucifer chastised. “He fucked you when you were a mess over the hickie thing, and wearing the oldest pair of sweatpants in the history of the current world. You not being in ‘proper’ pants isn’t going to make him run.” 

“What  _ would  _ make him run?” Michael asked, ignoring the false statement about who bottomed. 

“EUREKA!!” Lucifer exclaimed, ignoring Michael’s question. He held up his prize -- a pair of warm tan khakis.

Michael whined. “They’re so tight on my ass,” he protested. “And then it looks big.” 

“It is a proven fact that khakis make your ass look fantastic,” Lucifer said. “Come on, put them on.” 

Michael sighed and grabbed the khakis. “I hate you,” he said with hardly any venom in his tone. “What if Samuel comes right now?” 

“Then I’ll distract him, you cheese curd,” Lucifer sighed. “Go change.” 

Michael gave Lucifer the single finger salute before heading off. 

“Time, place, pace, and position!” Lucifer cackled as Michael shut the bathroom door closed behind him. 

Michael reappeared about three minutes later and gave his brother a spin. “Well?” 

Lucifer looked it over and smirked. “ _ Ten Reasons Why Michael of the White Feathers is the Stud Muffin YOU Need in Your Life, _ ” he said with a laugh as Michael blushed. “No, really. You look  _ hawt. _ ” 

“Really?” Michael asked as he slipped on a pair of white keds. 

“Would I lie to you?” Silence stretched for a moment, crickets chirping in the background. Sighing after a few moments. Lucifer amended his inquiry. “Would I lie to you about something as important as a date?” 

“No,” Michael admitted. 

“There we go,” Lucifer said, nodding in approval and smiling. “Perfect. You look great.” 

Michael looked at himself in his full length mirror and sighed as he began to comb his hair with his fingers. 

“Leave it a little unkempt,” Lucifer said. “Not too neat, but not too messy either. Give him the urge to play with it.”

Michael sighed as he continued to fuck with his hair until it met Lucifer’s satisfaction. Lucifer then undid the buttons on Michael’s polo. 

“Why?” Michael asked as he started to do the buttons up again. 

“Why so modest?” Lucifer countered. “He’s already seen you naked. It’s not like you have anything to hide.” 

Michael sighed, then tapped the scar on his chest, visible when the buttons weren’t done up. 

Lucifer sighed. He had his own scar, similar to Michael’s. Remnants of a dead world, of a world where he was a warrior and the last battle where they nearly lost their lives. The only difference between them in this matter was that Lucifer had long stopped being self-conscious about it. Michael hadn’t. “Mi,” Lucifer said patiently, “does Samuel give a damn about what it looks like?” 

“No,” Michael admitted, shivering a little as he remembered the way Samuel’s finger had touched it when he first saw it. Reverently, gently, warmly. Down the center. Unflinchingly. 

“Then you shouldn’t give a flying fuck, either,” Lucifer said simply. “The only person who matters has seen it and doesn’t care, so why should you?” 

Michael inhaled, then exhaled. “Okay.” 

“Besides, seeing your neck on display like this? He’ll want to mark you up for sure,” Lucifer grinned. 

Michael rolled his eyes as he sprayed on his usual cologne and took another look in the mirror. 

The doorbell rang. 

“I’ve got it,” Lucifer said. “You take a moment to breathe and relax, Mi.” 

Michael nodded and went into the restroom to do just that. He looked at himself in the mirror with a critical eye. 

_ Damn, I actually do look hot,  _ he thought to himself with a small smile. He then left and headed out to the living room, where Samuel was talking to Lucifer. 

Samuel was dressed in a pair of nice jeans and a red and brown striped flannel, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. “Hey,” he said, coming over to greet Michael. “You look… wow. You look fucking hot.” 

“Really?” Michael asked with a blush. He chastely kissed Samuel’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” Samuel said brightly, warm amber eyes happy. “I mean, you always look hot but… you look even hotter like this.” 

“Thank you,” Michael cooed. “You look hot too.”  _ That was lame as fuck, Michael. Where’s your game at?  _

Samuel beamed and kissed Michael’s cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Well, you kids should get going soon,” Lucifer said. “The movie will be starting.” 

“You’re right,” Michael said. “Ready, Samuel?” 

“Yes,” Samuel said, extending his hand to Michael. Michael took it and smiled. 

“One more moment before you go,” Lucifer said. He looked right at Samuel, his gaze suddenly hard and cold. “If you hurt him or break his heart,” he warned, “just know that I don’t give a fuck about going to prison for murder.” 

“ _ Lucifer! _ ” Michael choked. 

“And it wouldn’t be pretty, either,” Lucifer added. “Let’s just say it would be exceptionally heinous.” 

Samuel gave Lucifer an eerily serene smile. “As long as you make sure that I’m good and dead when you do murder me,” he said. “However, I don’t think we will have a problem. I won’t intentionally hurt him.” 

“Good, I’m glad that we understand each other,” Lucifer said before beginning to smile brightly. 

Samuel squeezed Michael’s hand. “Ready to go now?” 

“Yes,” Michael said with a smile. 

“Now, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do!” Lucifer called out as they began to leave. 

Michael looked directly at his younger brother. “That’s a real short fucking list, Lucifer,” he said blandly. 

Samuel laughed as they left for the theater. 

“That was fucking  _ epic, _ ” Samuel said excitedly as they left the theater and started making their way to the diner, the two of them still holding hands. 

“It was,” Michael agreed as he remembered snuggling with Samuel in the cozy seats of the theater. “I thought for  _ sure  _ that the enucleation would’ve killed her.” 

“Oh, so did I, especially when the killer hacked away at the eye socket. By God’s left nut, can you imagine trying that case?” Samuel groaned. 

“Absolutely,” Michael groaned with him. “I’ve tried way too many cases similar to that. Horrifying. And the amount of evidence exhibits that are needed for something like that?” He shuddered violently. “It’s a fucking legal mess, and I hate those cases the most.” 

“You just don’t like messes, period,” Samuel laughed as they reached the diner. He opened the door for them. 

“Touche,” Michael laughed as he entered. 

They chose a booth in the back of the small restaurant, where hardly, if any, curious eyes and ears could be watching or listening in on them. Samuel ordered an iced coffee; Michael ordered a hot pot of coffee. 

“So do we want to put a label on you and I and what we are?” Samuel asked as he looked over the menu. 

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. Internally, his brain was screaming. “Do you think that we should?” he asked casually. 

“Yes, considering that I’ve now been fucked and  _ claimed  _ by you,” Samuel said, pulling the collar of his flannel off to the side to show off the slowly fading hickie. “For now, at least, what are we?” 

“An Angel and a Cambion,” Michael smirked. 

Samuel huffed. “Are you trying to show me how sexy sarcasm is?” he asked. 

Michael looked up and saw Samuel’s eyes slowly turning to violet-red, indicating his arousal. “I mean, I know that it’s working,” he said innocently. “You love it.” 

“I’m serious, Mi,” Samuel laughed. 

“Hi, Serious. I’m Michael.” Michael grinned at the  _ ancient  _ dad joke. 

Samuel groaned and shook his head. “That was abysmal,” he said. 

“I know,” Michael grinned even wider. “You love my humor.” 

“Mhm,” Samuel sighed, a warm smile on his face. 

“To answer your question seriously,” Michael said, “I think that given our  _ professional  _ relationship that we should be completely exclusive.” 

“I agree,” Samuel said. “I’ve done the poly thing before, and while I adored it, there doesn’t need to be three of us, just two.” 

Michael nodded with a smile. “So… you’re my…” he paused as he hunted for the words. 

“Boyfriend, as almost juvenile as that sounds,” Samuel said, “You’re my boyfriend.” 

Michael beamed. “I like the sound of that,” he said. 

Samuel beamed as well. 

_ Samuel is my boyfriend,  _ he thought to himself as the waitress brought their coffee over and took their orders.  _ I have the best fucking defense attorney in the four quadrants as my boyfriend and I am the luckiest fucking man alive.  _


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trial that makes Michael truly see the inconsistencies of the justice system

“We are gathered here today for the trial of  _ The Fourth Quardrant v. The Nephilim Claire-”  _

“You will read off the case names  _ properly _ in my courtroom, Bailiff, or not at all,” Death said icily. 

The bailiff huffed, obviously angered by the intrusion, but amended the case name. “ _ The Fourth Quadrant v. Claire the  _ Lo-Zhang-” 

“Bailiff!” Death barked. 

The bailiff huffed once more, eyes flashing black. He then amended the case file to the proper name, clearly not wanting to lose his job. “ _ The Fourth Quadrant v. Claire of the Blue Feathers and of the House of Novak.  _ She has been charged with robbery and attempted murder in the first.” The bailiff glared at Death as he spoke, but the judge ignored him. 

Michael took a look over at the defendant’s table. Claire looked terrified. She couldn’t be more than twenty years old, if that. His heart broke for her, as he knew that this trial would be brutal on her due to her heritage. Luckily, she had a defense attorney that would understand and defend her to the bitter end. 

“Who stands in the defense of the state?” Death asked quietly. 

“I do, your Honor,” Michael said, standing up. 

“And whom are you to defend the state?” 

“I am Michael of the White Feathers. I am an Angel, the Grand Prosecutor for the Four Quadrants and a former Prince of Heaven, and I am here to defend the state.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the accused?”

“I do, your Honor.” 

“And whom are you to defend the accused?” 

“I am Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell. I am a Lo-Zhang and I stand here to defend the accused.” 

“Do you verify that you have the credentials and the knowledge to defend your respective positions and that you have upheld the ethical practices of the esteemed profession of law?” 

“I do,” Michael and Samuel echoed. 

“And do you verify that there will be no magical trickery in order to persuade the jury of the accused peer’s in order to obtain a conviction or acquittal?” 

“I do, upon my solemn oath,” Michael and Samuel replied. Michael inhaled, then exhaled, casting a side eye at Samuel. This was their first trial since they started going steady and fucking. They had been dating for about a month by now, and Michael wondered how the trial was going to go. 

“Then let the trial commence. Prosecution, proceed with your opening statement.” 

When Samuel winked at him before he sat down, Michael internally groaned, almost missing Death’s cue to give his opening statement. 

_ He’s going to be a little brat, the fucker,  _ he thought to himself as he went before the jury. “Ladies, gentlemen, and other jury-persons,” he began, his brain deciding to completely eliminate the word  _ jurors  _ from his vocabulary. 

_ Today is going to go absolutely fucking well,  _ Michael thought to himself as he launched into a half-hearted, yet completely logical, explanation on what the jurors should look for during the trial.  _ Nothing is going to go wrong at all.  _

“So, are you going to have her take the stand?” Michael asked as he ran his fingers through Samuel’s hair. 

The trial for Claire was a prosecutor’s nightmare and a defense attorney’s dream. All of the evidence that the prosecution had against her was circumstantial and speculation. Even Michael had to admit that. Literally, the only thing standing in the way of Claire’s freedom and acquittal was the fact that she was a Nephilim. 

“I might,” Samuel admitted. “She and I have been practicing on how to do that, but…” 

“But what?” Michael asked softly. 

“She gives Dean a run for his money when it comes to defending her actions,” Samuel sighed. “She gets very defensive and she hasn’t quite grasped the idea that short, concise answers are going to be her best friend when it comes to the cross. She also has an unsealed juvenile record.” 

Michael hummed in thought, still stroking Samuel’s hair. “Her juvie charge was shoplifting, right?” 

“Yeah, she stole some bread and cheese so she could feed herself and her sister,” Samuel sighed. “She gets very defensive over it. She didn’t even serve juvie time. She got time served and six months probation, which she passed with flying colors.” 

Michael continued to hum in thought before he shook his head. “The evidence alone exonerates her,” he said quietly. “The evidence is completely circumstantial and speculation. We both know that. If she takes the stand and reacts to questions defensively, it will bring old stereotypes to life and it could harm her. If she takes the stand, I feel she’ll hurt her case.” 

Samuel nodded and sighed. “So, how many ethical violations have we committed now?” he asked playfully. 

“I have no idea,” Michael admitted with a laugh. “Want to commit another?” 

“With you? Always,” Samuel purred, leaning up from where his head was laying on Michael’s lap to kiss him. 

Nothing more about the case was said that night. In fact, not much else was said for the rest of the night. 

Of course, as if Michael had expected anything different, Samuel had Claire take the stand in her defense. 

During Samuel’s examination, Claire performed admirably. With Michael… well, it could have gone a lot worse. 

“Miss Claire,” Michael said, “what  _ were  _ you doing at the residence in question on the day in question?” 

Claire gave a very defensive shrug. “He was an old friend of my father’s,” she said. “I wanted to talk to him a while.” 

“What did you want to talk to him about?” Michael asked. 

“My dad,” Claire said. “He had committed suicide about a year ago. When I was there, the death was still fresh. Maybe… two months had gone by? I’m not sure. I had been in a bit of a daze afterwards.” 

“My condolences,” Michael said. “During the time that you were in the victim’s home, did you have an altercation with him?” 

“Yeah, I got into a fight with him.” 

“Was the nature of this altercation physical in any way?” 

“No, we just yelled at each other a lot.” 

“Why did this altercation occur?” 

“He called my dad a coward for killing himself. I insisted that he wasn’t a coward.” Claire gave a sniffle. “Daddy was terminally ill. He didn’t have a whole lot of time left to live, and he wanted to die with dignity. Despite this, he thought that Daddy should’ve just let nature take its course, despite the fact that Daddy would’ve been in a lot of pain.” She looked at the courtroom challengingly. “Daddy wasn’t a coward. He just wanted to die on his own terms. Is that such a bad thing to want?” 

Michael allowed that statement to hang in the air as he shook his head. “After the altercation, what did you do?”

“I left his house, got as far away as I could, and got drunk,” Claire admitted. “It had been too much.” 

“Were you still angry at the victim for his remarks concerning your father?” Michael asked. 

“Well, yeah, duh. Wouldn’t you be?” Claire asked yet in return, her voice sharp.

Michael didn’t comment, but he had to agree with that. “Did you think about hurting the victim?” he asked. 

“Not really, no,” Claire replied in a huff. “He was just being selfish. He had no clue what Daddy had been going through. I don’t even know the extent of it, and I was there with him every day. I know that Daddy didn’t want to kill himself, but he wasn’t going to let himself suffer and make us suffer in the process.” 

“What did you do after you got inebriated?” 

“I know I managed to get home,” Claire said, “Because I called Mom to come pick me up at the bar. I then went to bed. Next thing I know is that I’m being arrested for robbing and nearly killing him.” 

“Claire, are you aware that you have an unsealed juvenile record?” He hated to bring it up, but he had to ask about it, because it was technically relevant. 

“Yeah, and it’s all bullshit too,” Claire snarked. 

“Language, Claire,” Death said in a calm, warning tone. 

“Sorry, your Honor,” Claire said. 

_ Good, that’ll look good for you,  _ Michael thought before speaking again. “Are you aware that your juvenile record can harm you in this case?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You pled guilty to shoplifting. Why?” 

“I stole food to feed my sister and I. We were going through a rough time and didn’t have enough to eat. So I stole some bread and cheese.” She stared at the jury. “I wouldn’t steal unless it was necessary.” 

“Nothing further, your Honor.” 

“You know,” Michael hummed, “that didn’t go too horribly. I still think that you shouldn’t have put her on the stand though.” 

“I probably should’ve listened to you,” Samuel agreed, “and I nearly didn’t. But  _ Lo-Zhangs  _ have historically been told to keep silent for that reason. For the fact that we’re crossbreeds and that we have our stereotypes and no one wants to listen. It’s about damn time that our voices are heard, both as victims and as potential suspects. We’ll let the cards fall where they may.” 

“You know, you’re right,” Michael said with a smile. “Silly of me to suggest that.” 

“No, you just want me to win this case,” Samuel teased. 

Michael smiled and sighed. “You know what? She could be Lucifer’s daughter.” 

Samuel burst into giggles. “Dean’s daughter, as well.” 

The two of them fell into a fit of giggles, imagining their brothers having Claire for a daughter.

“I felt sorry for her,” Michael admitted once they got their composure once more. “Heavens, I hated this case.” 

“Well, hopefully, she walks free,” Samuel sighed. 

“We the jury of the trial find Claire of the Blue Feathers and of the House of Novak  _ not guilty  _ of the charges of robbery and attempted murder in the first,” the jury foreman announced after three hours of deliberation. 

The entire courtroom erupted into cheers at the announcement. Claire burst into tears and Samuel wrapped his arms around her, tears shining in his own eyes. 

Michael leaned back in his seat, smiling to himself. Most cases, he would’ve cared if he lost. This one, however… this was blatant prejudice against  _ Lo-Zhangs  _ and a clear case of someone who is trying to pin a crime on a young, troubled girl who had just sought comfort from someone familiar with her father and ended up fighting with him. He knew that she was innocent, and while he had prosecuting this case, no one could say that he threw the case away. 

Samuel made his way over to Michael’s table and the prosecutor stood up to shake his boyfriend’s hand. “Well won,” he congratulated him. 

“Thank you,” Samuel beamed. “Well fought.” 

“Thank you,” Michael replied. “We did a good thing with this trial.” 

“It is,” Samuel agreed. “And Claire wants me to represent her as she sues the Fourth Quadrant Police Department for false imprisonment and intentional infliction of emotional distress, among other charges.” 

“Good,” Michael said approvingly. “That’s great, I’m glad to hear that she’s going to continue to fight for justice.” 

Samuel smiled. “I’ll see you around,” he said. “It’s time to appease the vultures -- I mean, talk to the reporters.” 

“Enjoy your victory,” Michael sighed. “The advantage of having your brother as a reporter. I only have to deal with one vulture, and I can shoot him if necessary.” 

Samuel smirked. “That’s so very true,” he said. He turned and left to talk to the media with Claire. Michael watched him walk away, smirking to himself as he watched Samuel try to hide his limp. 

_ Perhaps  _ I  _ should be the one who’s limping tomorrow,  _ Michael mused to himself.  _ A certain, handsome, young defense attorney has  _ definitely  _ earned that right.  _


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael bottoms for Samuel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fuckin' filthy

Michael groaned as his back hit the wall of his living room, clutching at the lapels of Samuel’s jacket so that he could steady himself and keep Samuel closer to him. 

The case involving Claire was done, and the sexual tension had been building for quite a while, but especially throughout the day after the jury read their verdict. Between the media presence and all of the tedious post-case paperwork, Michael had to adjust himself several times. And when it was time to go home, he had flown as fast as he could, arriving at his house at the same time that Samuel did. They had barely waited until they were inside before attacking each other. 

“Fuck, you taste  _ good, _ ” Samuel groaned as he broke the kiss to catch his breath. “God’s creations, I’m so lucky to have you as my Angel.” 

“And I am so very lucky to have you, my sweet Cambion,” Michael groaned as he kissed Samuel again. 

Samuel pulled Michael away from the wall as he bit at the Angel’s lower lip and sucked on it as they made their clumsy way over to the couch. 

“How do you want me?” Samuel moaned as they tumbled onto the couch with a giggle. 

“Buried deep in me,” Michael breathed. 

Samuel drew away, looking directly into Michael’s eyes. Shocked arousal shone clearly shone on his face. “You’d let me fuck you?” he asked in awe. 

Michael’s face tinged pink as he nodded. “Yeah. Unless… you don’t want to?” he asked shyly. 

“Fuck yeah I want to,” Samuel groaned in desire. “It’s just… Mi, have you ever done it that way before?” 

“Bottomed? Are you asking if I’ve ever bottomed?” Michael asked for clarification. Seeing Samuel nod, he smiled. “Yes, I have bottomed before. It’s just been a  _ very  _ long time since I’ve done so.” 

“That’s because you’re a toppy bastard,” Samuel teased. 

“You  _ like  _ me being on top,” Michael laughed as he began undoing Samuel’s tie. 

“I do,” Samuel hummed in agreement. “But now, I have to decide how to fuck you.” 

“Deep,” Michael said cheekily, pulling Samuel’s tie off of him and throwing it off to the side and not caring where it landed. 

“Are you one of those power bottoms?” Samuel asked as he pushed Michael’s suit jacket off and onto the armrest of the couch. 

“Well, I’m definitely not a pillow princess, that’s for  _ damn  _ sure,” Michael purred. “Don’t tell me you thought topping me was easy?” 

“Oh, I knew that it wouldn’t be easy,” Samuel laughed as he used Michael’s tie to pull him closer. “But, I mean, I  _ did  _ win today’s case.” 

“It was an easy win,” Michael laughed happily. 

“Still won it fair and square,” Samuel smirked. “And it wasn’t as easy as you think, considering Claire’s species and other factors.” 

Samuel  _ did  _ have a point. “True, you’re right,  _ Lo-Zhangs  _ have been sent to years of prison for less and with no evidence.” Michael gave a playful, put upon sigh. “I suppose I can give you that.” 

“Of course,” Samuel purred. “Let’s go to the bedroom, Angel. It’s time to fuck.” 

A shiver went up Michael’s spine and he got up and headed to the bedroom with Samuel, the two of them giggling and making out as they headed down the hallway and into the room. Clothes were littered like breadcrumbs to lead Hansel and Gretel home. 

Once they finally got to Michael’s bedroom, Samuel playfully pushed him down onto the bed, causing him to bounce before he crawled over him like a panther about to pounce on his prey. It was a whole new side to Samuel, and Michael wanted to see more of it. 

Samuel leaned down into Michael’s personal space and peppered kisses over his face. Michael laughed softly and tried to catch the kisses from Samuel, but his lover easily and playfully avoided being captured. 

“I can’t wait to devour you, Michael,” Samuel breathed, “To have you in a whole new way. And you’re going to be  _ so good  _ for me, aren’t you? Such a good, sweet little Angel for me, in my bed.” 

“I think we’re in  _ my  _ house,” Michael mentioned lightly, yipping as Samuel nipped him. 

“Yes, but it’s  _ my cock  _ your tight ass is going to be on,” Samuel murmured, “ _ my  _ cock that is going to be reaching deep within you, drawing the sweetest symphonies from your throat as I bring you to the precipice of pleasure and allow you to fall head over heels into the abyss of satisfaction.” 

Michael’s brain short circuited and he could only give a low moan in response.

Samuel smirked. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he drawled. “Now stay nice and still for me, little Angel.” He reached for the lube under the covers and grabbed the bottle. “Don’t want to cause you any discomfort or pain.” 

“Can’t have that,” Michael agreed, spreading his legs even wider for Samuel, putting himself on full display. 

The lustful violet-red eyes darkened hungrily, to something more akin to a burgundy, and Michael wanted to drown in the hue. 

“Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous,” Samuel breathed, opening the lube and coating his fingers generously. “You’re going to be a mess when I’m done with you. You know that, right?” 

“Yes, Samuel,” Michael breathed, arching his back and choking on his next breath as Samuel eased a long, gloved, thick finger inside of him. 

It had been  _ far too long  _ since Michael has even fingered himself, and he forgot how good it felt, how the discomfort always seemed to melt away into something richer, something distinctly more pleasant as the digit moved within him, slowly and gently opening him up even more. 

“So responsive,” Samuel whispered in awe as he continued to gently rock his finger inside of Michael. “Stars’ end, what are you going to look and sound like on my cock? You’re going to look so fuckin’ pretty, Mi, I swear.” 

Slowly, a second finger was introduced and Michael lost all coherency that he possessed as he gave a strangled cry, feeling himself stretch around the intrusion, welcoming it as he let himself fall head first into the abyss of satisfaction. 

He doesn’t remember much about Samuel fingering him open the rest of the way. He knew that Samuel went up to four fingers; he knew that Samuel was whispering sweet praises to him, praises of how good he was doing, how well he was taking him, how responsive he was. He knew nothing but pure bliss, and he didn’t want to surface out of it any time soon. 

All good things have to come to an end, though, and all too soon, Samuel was withdrawing his fingers from Michael’s hole, and he whined in protest. 

“Well, I can’t exactly stick my dick inside of you if you’re already stuffed full with my fingers,” Samuel teased gently. “Maybe one or two fingers, but certainly not four. You know I’m thicker than I look.” 

Yes, Michael  _ did  _ know that for a fact, having spent many nights blowing his lover and also stroking it to learn how to get Samuel off quickly. He wiggled and groaned as he stretched. 

He watched as Samuel slowly removed his leather gloves, the talons elongating and he shivered. For some reason, knowing that Samuel had fingered him with his gloves on -- the gloves he wore every day (Samuel also had ~fancy~ gloves for specific events that he’d have to attend as the offspring of Azazel) -- turned Michael on even more. His cock throbbed against his belly. 

“I may have to finger you with my gloves on again, huh Angel?” Samuel chuckled. 

“Just fuck me, little Cambion,” Michael snipped needily. 

“Temper,” Samuel smirked. “So you’re a needy, greedy, little Angel, huh?” 

Michael looked up at Samuel with wide, lust filled eyes and Samuel chuckled as he slipped between splayed legs. He leaned down and kissed Michael sweetly. 

“I think I like this side of you,” Samuel murmured. “You’re not thinking, you’re just  _ doing  _ and it’s beautiful.” 

And with that, Samuel started to slide into Michael. 

Michael gave a pathetic strangled mewl as Samuel breached him and opened him farther than he thinks he’s ever been opened before, and he  _ loved  _ it. His hands flew up and clung to Samuel’s shoulders, his nails digging in as if he could ground himself into the here and now just by that gesture alone. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Samuel groaned as he continued to slip deep inside of Michael, his hands coming down and under Michael’s arms. His talons curled over the tops of the Angel’s shoulders and he gently but firmly pulled him downwards onto his cock. 

“Sam,” Michael managed to gasp, reduced to single syllables. 

“Perfect,” Samuel groaned. “So fuckin’ perfect, Michael. And all for me.” 

He bottomed out shortly after that and allowed Michael to regain some semblance of sanity and logic and reasoning, letting him adjust to the thick cock inside of him. Michael could tell from the way his lover’s taut body was tense against his, though, that Samuel wanted nothing more than to just plow into him over and over again, without a break, without mercy. 

Still, Michael took advantage of the break to catch his breath and to allow some clarity to hit his brain. He’s not entirely sure why, knowing that all Samuel was going to do is fuck it out of him again, but he still did it. 

When the weight of Samuel became too much, when Michael knew he’d be squirming like a fish on a hook in impatience and horny desire, he groaned, “Move.” 

Samuel looked down at Michael and smirked. “Permission to just utterly wreck you?” he asked. 

Michael’s heart softened like butter in the sun. “Absolutely. Granted,” he said. 

Samuel’s smirk turned absolutely wolfish and then, he began to pound into Michael without any sort of mercy. 

Michael wailed in pleasure and the slightest bit of pain. All he could feel was the pulsating sensation of Samuel pounding into him. He clung to Samuel, digging his nails into his back, almost leaving claw marks as he scrambled to find purchase and sanity with those moves. His legs wrapped around Samuel’s, holding him close. Samuel’s hot breath and sweat soaked hair danced across Michael’s skin, and he just absolutely surrendered to the pleasure that he was being given. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, clenching around me,” Samuel breathed. “So fuckin’ hot and tight around me, it’s hard for me to think.” 

“You want to be able to think?” Michael asked with a laugh. 

“Fuckin’ smart ass,” Samuel snorted, nipping Michael’s collarbone. The Angel yipped and the Cambion smirked. “I’m getting close. Are you?” 

Yes, Michael was getting close. He could feel the telltale tingle along his spine; he could feel the way his balls were drawing up in need for release. He could tell just by the way his breath was catching ever so slightly deep in his throat. 

And, of course, it helped that Samuel was continuously nailing his prostate over and over again with his thick cock. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. 

“That’s what we’re doing,” Samuel chuckled darkly. “Gonna cum on my cock untouched, Angel? Going to make a mess of you and I before I fill you up in a way that you’ve very rarely allowed for before?” 

“Fuck, yes, Sam,” Michael gasped, clenching even tighter around Samuel and drawing a growl from him. 

“Then cum,” Samuel commanded. 

Michael had never been one to cum on command, but he did with Samuel, his back arching off the bed as he covered their bellies in release.

Samuel came shortly after that, and he collapsed on top of Michael, both of them using the opportunities to catch their breaths. They exchanged soft kisses and ran their fingers and claws over each other’s skin, raising pleasant goosebumps. 

“We should get cleaned up,” Michael murmured after a time.

“Mhm,” Samuel sighed contently. “In a moment.” 

Michael smiled. “Alright,” he agreed.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bet is made

“You know what we should do?” Samuel asked in a soft voice, his talons still dancing across Michael’s back. They had cleaned up and were now cuddling as they went to fall asleep. 

“Hmm?” Michael hummed, looking up sleepily at his boyfriend.

“We should have a deal on the outcome of the next case,” Samuel said with a yawn. “You know, like if I win, you have to do something I like and vice versa.” 

A thrill went through Michael’s veins at that thought. “Okay. So, if the verdict is not guilty, what would you like for me to do?” 

Samuel’s smirk erupted. “I think we should have sex in a public place.” 

Michael’s ears flamed red, but he could feel his cock beginning to stir. 

“Oh, I know, I know, public sex is a hidden kink of yours,” Samuel teased. 

“It is  _ not, _ ” Michael protested. 

“Okay, Angel,” Samuel said, not believing it. He knew Michael too well, and Michael knew it. He kissed Michael’s nose. “And if we come back with a guilty verdict?” 

Michael hummed in thought, nuzzling into Samuel as he considered his options. Feeling Samuel’s half hard cock against his hip gave him a wicked idea. “Women’s panties,” he said. “If the verdict is guilty, if it is in my favor, I want you to wear women’s panties.” 

“I’m going to have a hard time finding ones that’ll fit,” Samuel protested. 

“Agreed,” Michael purred, “And that’s half the attraction. Knowing that no matter what, your cock is going to be spilling out. Oh, and you have to wear them to court the next time we have court together.” 

“Oh, you’re  _ cruel _ ,” Samuel laughed. “Alright, Mi. If you win, I wear panties. If I win, we fuck in public.” 

“Yes,” Michael grinned. “Shall we seal the deal, sweet Cambion?” 

“Absolutely, little Angel,” Samuel purred. “And then, to bed. We’ve had a long day today and we’ve got a long day dealing with paperwork tomorrow.” 

“Your dirty talk needs work,” Michael teased as Samuel kissed him. 

“I think my dirty talk is sufficient,” Samuel said dryly after the kiss. 

Michael laughed and nuzzled down, tucking Samuel into him closer. “Night, Sam.” 

“Night, Mi. Sweet dreams. I care about you.” 

Michael smiled and sighed contently. “I care about you, too.” 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel and Michael have a case where Samuel has a chance to shine

“All rise for the Honorable Death!” 

Michael stood up as Death entered the courtroom, eyeing the latest minted prosecutor to his right. Uriel of the Grey Feathers was staring straight ahead at the judge, his mouth in a thin line. Michael sighed internally, already knowing that this was  _ not  _ going to end well. 

“Please, have a seat,” Death said. “Bailiff, read the case.” 

“We are gathered here today for the trial in the matter of  _ Rowena of the House of MacLeod v. The Second Quadrant, _ ” the bailiff announced. “Rowena has been accused of attempted murder in the first and improper use of magic.” 

“Who stands in the defense of the state?” Death asked quietly. 

“I do, your Honor,” Michael and Uriel said at the same time. Michael turned to face the other prosecutor with an arched brow. 

“While we both speak for the State,” Michael said quietly, “I speak to the court first.” 

Uriel stared at Michael for a moment before nodding stiffly. “Apologies,” he murmured.

Michael nodded and turned back to the judge’s bench again.

“And whom are you to defend the state?” Death asked, an amused look on his face. 

“I am Michael of the White Feathers. I am an Angel, the Grand Prosecutor for the Four Quadrants, and I am here to defend the state.” 

Death nodded. “And you are?” 

“I am Uriel of the Grey Feathers, a mere and humble prosecutor and I also speak for the State,” Uriel said, inclining his head respectfully. Michael resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _ Humble my ass _ , he thought. 

“Who stands in the defense of the accused?”

“I do, your Honor,” Sam said respectfully. 

“And whom are you to defend the accused?” 

“I am Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell. I am a Cambion and I stand here to defend the accused.” 

Uriel gave a quiet snort. “Fuckin’  _ Lo-Zhangs _ , thinking that they can compare to pure beings such as ourselves,” he murmured under his breath. “Fuckin’ unnatural.” 

Michael gave Uriel a soft kick under the desk as Death recited the things they needed to hear in order to proceed. “Hold your tongue,” he whispered softly. “The walls have ears.” 

Uriel frowned but said no more on the subject as they had their courtly duties. 

Yet, somehow, Michael knew that this wouldn’t be the last time that Uriel expressed his distaste for  _ Lo-Zhangs. _

“Prosecution, you may give your opening statement.”

“Rowena,” Uriel said as he began the cross-examination, “you are a witch, correct?” 

“That is correct,” Rowena replied in the daintiest form of the Highland accent that Michael had ever heard. 

“Have you ever done harm unto someone as a witch?” Uriel asked. 

“Aye I’ve hexed some folk,” she said, “but never have I hexed someone who didn’t deserve it.” 

Uriel nodded. “Would you say that you are a talented witch?” 

“My name’s been known as a witch of good standing in the Four Quadrants for the better part of three centuries, dearie,” Rowena said in a polite, condescending tone. “So, yes, I’m a talented witch.” 

“So, what you’re saying is,” Uriel said slowly, “That you could have astral projected yourself to where Oscar of the House of Lionheart was and slit his throat whilst also doing a concealment spell?” 

Michael sighed and buried his face into his hands.  _ I am going to be the next one on trial for murder, I swear to my creator, _ he thought. 

Uriel had brought this theory up while they were planning for their cross examination on Rowena, and Michael firmly squashed it down, explaining that it was an impossibility. Uriel, apparently, had never taken a single magic course in his life as a student and therefore didn’t know that one could not do a concealment spell while astral projecting, because it would compromise the integrity of the projection and, when this has been attempted in the past, has caused at minimum, disfigurement and disability, and in most scenarios, death. Uriel had  _ seemed  _ to understand, but apparently he didn’t. 

“Objection!” Samuel called, standing. “Magical improbability!” 

_ Thank the Stars that Samuel’s observant and he knows that this is impossible,  _ Michael thought as Uriel rounded on Samuel. 

“How would a bottom feeder like  _ you  _ know that it’s a magical improbability?” Uriel sneered. 

Michael saw Samuel’s eyes flash and he just leaned back in his seat to watch the fireworks. He saw Death do the same and he smirked to himself.  _ Tear him apart, baby,  _ he thought. This was going to be  _ good. _

“Well, first of all,” Samuel drawled, “I am technically a warlock by the laws of magic. Second of all, my studies at the school that my Sire taught at  _ and  _ at my university  _ and  _ at law school all involved magical theory. My minor as an undergraduate was Demonic magic. I am, after all, half Demon and the offspring of one of the  _ most  _ powerful Demons in the Four Quadrants, both in ability and influence. In fact, my specialization in law, besides criminal law, is magical law. So, I would say that I am far more qualified to talk on the subject of magical improbabilities than the average person. Third of all, anyone with literally half of an inkling on magic knows that astral projection is a highly unstable form of magical projection and therefore one is essentially powerless to anything concerning magic, including external  _ and  _ internal attacks. This is because it relies on the majority of your energy and will use it all up, which is why it is highly advised and encouraged to conduct an astral projection while you are sleeping. A concealment spell is also a high magic-energy user, and so therefore using both together would deplete one’s energy reserves, and could lead to several complications. This has been a highly studied matter, and is widely considered to be improbable to do, as 89% of attempts to do a concealment spell whilst astral projecting have lead to violent and vicious deaths; 6.5% have lead to debilitating disability that have been directly linked to their deaths within a year after the attempt; and 5.5% have lead to disfigurement that has also caused severe disabilities which are not limited to magical disabilities, according to last year’s  _ Statistical Magical Complications and How to Prevent Them  _ by Dagon of the Yellow Eyes, the leading expert in magical improbabilities.” He fixed a steely glare on the dark Angel in front of the witness stand. “It wouldn’t have killed you to have done some research on the subject if this was going to be your angle, Uriel. Perhaps you should have listened to your mentor and not brought such a ludicrous idea before this auspicious court and therefore have saved yourself a public embarrassment.” 

_ BURN! _ Michael thought, cackling to himself. 

“Your Honor, it is clear that the State is lacking in evidence,” Samuel announced. “I would like to file a motion to dismiss and acquit Rowena of the House of MacLeod of all charges presented before her today on the basis of frivolity.” 

Death looked over at Michael and Michael gave a nod. He couldn’t deny that they had no evidence, that this case was a crapshoot. He just didn’t expect it to be  _ this  _ much of a crapshoot. 

And now he had to hide  _ yet another Fatherdamn boner from the entire court.  _

“Motion so passed.” Death banged the gavel. “This case is dismissed. Rowena, we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

The courtroom erupted and Uriel looked at Michael. “Weren’t you supposed to help me?” he asked, clearly outraged. “We could’ve nailed her!” 

“Maybe for the improper use of magic charge,” Michael said calmly, “but you fucked that up for us. So listen to those of us who have been doing this court for longer than you have had your wings molting.” He clicked his briefcase closed and nodded. “We will discuss everything at headquarters on Wednesday at nine in the morning sharp,” he added. “Have a good day, Uriel.” 

_ Bathroom?  _ The thought was shoved at him and he hid a smile as he cast a surreptitious look at Samuel, who was talking to his client. 

_ Give me thirty minutes, handsome.  _


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel cash in on that bet, to some interesting consequences

“Oh, so  _ someone’s  _ eager,” Samuel laughed as Michael pushed him up against the sinks in the bathroom of the courthouse. Everyone had left for the day, and he was so eager to just  _ give  _ this to his boyfriend. 

“Watching you dress down that pompous bigot of an Angel in such an elegant way just got me so turned on, sorry,” Michael chuckled as he kissed Samuel. 

“Oh, I know,” Samuel smirked, returning the kiss. “I saw you squirming in your seat. You liked it. A lot.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Michael purred. “And he got what he deserved. So now, I’m going to have you undo your pants and take out your cock.” 

“Is that so?” Samuel smirked. “And what are you going to do with that?” 

Michael smirked in reply and simply dropped down to his knees in front of Samuel. 

The public defender groaned, his eyes darkening and changing to his fully aroused colors of violet-red. “Fuck, Mi,” he almost snarled as he fumbled with his belt. “You’re so fucking hot.” 

“You know it,” Michael grinned. 

“Do you want me to take a glove off?” Samuel asked as he undid his slacks, bringing his large cock out. 

Michael groaned deeply. “Please.” 

Samuel chuckled darkly as he carefully and gently pulled a glove off. Michael watched in fascination as the talons on Samuel’s hand elongated. He felt like he’ll never get tired of watching Samuel remove his gloves. Showing Michael his hands as they were created was far more intimate than Samuel showing Michael his dick ever would compare to.

Michael purred as he took Samuel’s cock into his mouth and started sucking on it happily. Samuel moaned and gently grasped Michael’s hair, the sharp talons softly scratching against his scalp. 

“Fuck, your mouth is so good, baby,” Samuel groaned. “Lips of an angel, that’s for damn certain, doing such sinful things.” 

Michael groaned happily at the praise and continued to suck on Samuel’s cock, enjoying the heavy weight on his tongue and the way the cock filled up his mouth, pulsing ever so slightly. 

Samuel tugged on Michael’s hair lightly, making the prosecutor moan in bliss. 

“So fuckin’ perfect, Mi,” Samuel moaned. “God’s left ballsack, your mouth was made for cocksucking.” 

“Actually, his mouth was made for orating,” a quiet voice from behind them said. 

Michael literally choked on Samuel’s cock and Samuel quickly pulled him off. As one, they both looked at Death. 

Death was just standing in the area next to the paper towels and the hand dryers, his customary cane in front of him as he leaned on it and the wall for support. Michael searched the expressionless face, trying to see if he could find a way to tell what Death was thinking. 

“We weren’t expecting you, your Honor,” Samuel spoke politely, since the vocabulary of several languages left Michael’s brain. 

“I can see that,” Death said dryly, making the two of them flush. “Clearly, neither of you heard me come in. Imagine if that was someone else.” 

Michael flushed even darker and Samuel started stuffing his cock back in. 

“Please head to my office,” Death added, “and wait for me there.” 

“Yes, your Honor,” Samuel and Michael said before they both fled, Samuel shoving his glove on as they headed out.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lecture from Death throws Michael into a panic

Michael’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Death to come into his office. He looked over at Samuel, who was busy studying everything in the office, which was a sanctuary that few were allowed to visit. Michael had been in these chairs on many occasions, but never when it concerned any sort of inappropriate behavior. 

He felt very much like an errant schoolboy that had been caught setting cherry bombs off in the locker room and had been sent to the principal’s office. As a result, he couldn’t help but fidget. 

“Hey,” Samuel said, getting Michael’s attention by laying a gentle hand on Michael’s bouncing knee. The movement ceased as Michael looked over at him and received a soft, reassuring smile accompanied by gentle blue eyes. “It’s all going to be okay.” 

“I know,” Michael whispered. “It’s just that-” 

“Yeah,” Samuel chuckled. “I know, I feel the same way, believe me. We’ll talk about it more after we get our asses to handed to us, okay?” 

Michael gave a hollow laugh and a nod just as Death walked into his office and went over to his desk. The two lawyers sat up straight and as far apart as possible, even though that caused Michael to feel a physical ache in his heart as they did so. Like their love wasn’t valid. 

Death didn’t say anything for several minutes, sorting through papers on his desk and updating a few reports on his computer. He then made a phone call to his secretary to hold off on his next appointment. 

To Michael, holding off on an appointment that must’ve been there months in advance didn’t bode well for him and his boyfriend. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands felt clammy, and his wings rustled in an unsettled manner. He couldn’t tell how Samuel was doing, because he was staring straight ahead. 

“Relax, Michael, Samuel,” Death said, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours. “I’m not angry at the two of you.” 

“You’re not?” Michael blurted out, surprised at this information. 

“Not really,” Death hummed casually, as if they were talking about the weather and not illicit blow jobs in the courthouse bathroom. “I’m severely disappointed in the two of you, of course, but not angry.” He gave the two of them a pointed look. “You both do realize, of course, that performing fellatio in the courthouse bathroom was  _ exceedingly  _ reckless for the two of you to do due to your positions here, correct?” 

“Yes, your Honor,” Michael and Samuel replied quietly, properly chastised. 

“Good, at least the two of you understand that,” Death said. “Now, will the two of you be so kind and please explain to me  _ why  _ the two of you had come to the conclusion that fellatio in the courthouse bathroom was, shall we say  _ necessary _ , I would very much appreciate it.” 

Michael swallowed. “Samuel and I had a bet based upon the verdict of the case,” he admitted quietly, his cheeks flaming red and while he averted his gaze. “If the verdict was not guilty, I would have to indulge in one of his public sex fantasies. If the verdict was guilty, he would’ve had to wear feminine cut undergarments.” Oh Jesus Christ on His Cross, that sounded a lot worse than when he Samuel planned this. “As he  _ very obviously  _ won the bet, with the verdict being in his favor, I performed fellatio on him in the bathroom. I will have to admit to you, your Honor, that something about the way he behaves in the courtroom arouses me.” 

Death hid a smile and looked over at Samuel with a raised brow, as if asking for confirmation. 

Samuel nodded in confirmation with a sheepish grin. 

“I will not consider this verdict to be in jeopardy and ask for a retrial,” Death said, “because I was not aware of your relationship prior to this trial. It helps that this case was obviously a frivolous one and the fact that there was closed minds in the courtroom.” 

Michael and Samuel nodded in understanding.

“If, however, the next case comes up for the preliminary hearing and one of you doesn’t recuse yourself, I will have no choice but to declare a mistrial and I will have you both placed under investigation for any other ethical violations. Do you understand me?” Death finished. 

“Yes, your Honor,” Samuel and Michael said softly. 

“I figured that the two of you would be smart enough to understand,” Death said with a small smile. “And I  _ do  _ remember what it’s like to be young and in love, gentlemen.” 

“I’m  _ not  _ young,” Michael protested. 

“To me, Michael, yes you are. You’re impossibly young,” Death chuckled. “I’ve been around for a far longer time than you.” 

Michael scowled and Death shook his head in amusement, a small smile still on his face. “I should mention that I don’t mind that the two of you are together,” he said, “In fact, I saw the potential for it come into being the day that I threw the both of you out of my courtroom.” 

Michael groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Can we forget that that ever happened, please?” he begged. “That still remains in my top five of the most embarrassing moments of my legal career, if not my life.” 

“There is no need to be overly dramatic, Michael,” Death chided. “It’s in the past now, and it doesn’t matter, anyways. Now, keep in mind what I’ve said, both of you, and no more fellatio on courthouse grounds.” 

Samuel, ever the snarky and sarcastic one, opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get even one word out of his throat, Death shot him a look. “You also cannot give each other rim jobs, hand jobs, or perform any form of coitus on the courthouse grounds. Forget the ensuing ethics investigation, just imagine if the media got ahold of the information that the two of you were together.” 

“The media already  _ has  _ ahold of that information,” Michael grumbled. “Lucifer’s known since the first time I slept with Samuel.” 

“That’s because you have the tendency to overshare with Lucifer,” Death said patiently. 

“That’s part of the reason why he’s so damn good at his job,” Samuel said. “He makes you want to tell him your deepest, darkest secrets.” 

Death nodded in agreement. “By the way, Michael, good job,” he said. 

Michael blinked. “On what?” he asked. 

“For proving me wrong,” Death stated simply. “I never imagined that you would have had the balls to do something like what you did.” 

Michael gaped at him while Samuel smirked. He really had no idea how to respond to that. 

“And now that the two of you have understood the gravity of your actions,” Death said, “get the hell out of my office. I’m sure that I’ve killed off any remnants of sexual desire for now. Be rational adults and go home to relieve that tension. I’ve got other things to do.” 

Michael and Samuel both got up and left as quickly as possible. Neither of them spoke a word to each other until they were outside the courthouse. 

“Are you coming over tonight?” Michael asked Samuel softly. 

Samuel nodded. “Yeah I’ll be over. I just need to grab the mail and change before I come over,” he said. “Do you want me to pick up wings and beer?” 

Michael nodded “That sounds good, thank you.” He let his magic grace Samuel’s cheek and the Cambion leaned into it with a purr. “I care about you.” 

Samuel smiled. “I care about you too. I’ll see you tonight.” 

Michael nodded and watched Samuel turn, take four steps before disappearing. 

He couldn’t believe that they were that reckless. He’s surprised that Death let them go with a proverbial slap on the wrist. Sighing as his thoughts began crowding his mind, he spread his wings and took flight, heading for home. He decided to take the long way so he could have time to think. 

He couldn’t believe that they were so reckless to jeopardize their careers and credibility for… what, a thrill? As a result, he began wondering if Samuel was as good for him as everyone thought. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel talk

The long flight home helped Michael calm down from the insanity of what had transpired that day. After realizing that he was overreacting and that Samuel’s spontaneous nature and quick, sarcastic wit was actually  _ very  _ good for him, Michael figured that the talk that they would be having about the embarrassment that had transpired that day wouldn’t be too bad. 

So when he landed, he watched some TV and had a cup of coffee while he went over his schedule for the next day. Once he was done with that, he wrote a few paragraphs on a brief that he was writing for a different case. 

He had just gotten up to rinse out his mug two hours later when he heard his door chirp and looked up at the window above the sink to see Samuel walk up the path, carrying a bag and a six pack of their favorite beer towards the door. 

“Michael?” Samuel called, the beers clinking to signal his arrival as he walked in. 

“I’m in the kitchen!” Michael called over his shoulder as he rinsed out his coffee mug and placed it in the dishwasher, smiling as Samuel came into the kitchen. “Hey, so you got the wings?”

“Yeah, but can we put the wings up and put the beer in the fridge?” Samuel asked. “I think it’s best if we talk now.” 

_ Is he breaking up with me?  _ Michael thought irrationally as he nodded. “Sure,” he said as he moved out of Samuel’s way. The defense attorney caught the prosecutor’s arm as he started to leave and pulled him back with a gentle tug. 

“Are you okay, Angel?” Samuel asked gently. 

“I’m fine,” Michael said, trying to put on a smile.

Samuel kissed the false smile. “No, you’re not,” he said softly. “And that’s okay. We will be.” 

Michael wasn’t too sure about that, but he nodded in agreement before heading out to the living room and sitting down on the couch. 

Samuel sat down next to Michael a few short minutes later and took Michael’s hand. He gave it a squeeze before speaking. “So, I know that today was kind of a... “ he paused as he looked for the right word. 

“It’s something that happened,” Michael said. 

“And it’s bugging you,” Samuel said gently. “I know it is, I can tell when something’s bugging you.” 

Michael looked at him quizzically. “How?” he asked. 

Samuel gave Michael a sad sort of smile and gently touched the center of Michael’s forehead with his free hand. “You crinkle your brows together until they become a giant caterpillar,” he explained softly. “It’s endearing in a way, but I’m surprised that you haven’t developed wrinkles yet.” He leaned in and kissed Michael’s forehead. “What’s troubling you, love? I have the feeling that this goes beyond getting caught giving head in a public restroom.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Michael sighed and nodded. He thought for a while before speaking. “It’s just… we just put our careers and our integrity as the keepers and the protectors of the law and justice on the line for a thrill. It’s not like we were at a club where we had anonymity. No, we decided to do it in the open area of the restroom of the establishment of where we worked like  _ morons. _ ” 

Samuel huffed a laugh and nodded. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “It was a dumb place to do that. I should have thought it through better and for that, I apologize. If we do something like this again, we’ll think it through better. By the same token, however, you do know that you could have spoken up at any point if you felt uncomfortable and we would’ve stopped, right?” 

“I do,” Michael reassured Samuel. “I really do. The thing is, I didn’t feel uncomfortable until Death walked in and caught us. And it just really…” 

“It shook you up,” Samuel finished for him. “Mi, when you were a general… did you ever do anything like what we did while at war? Just to get it out?” 

Michael shook his head. “Back when I was a general before the Collision,” he said, “I took care of that by myself. Less chance of being embarrassed that way.” 

“You  _ really  _ don’t like being embarrassed,” Samuel smiled. 

Michael snorted. “Does anybody?” 

“You would be surprised,” Samuel said dryly. “But you’ve always felt like that. You feel like you have an image, a reputation to maintain. And while that is very true, you also have to realize that occasionally being embarrassed and having people’s perception of you change is a good thing. As long as the change is, you know, for the better.” 

Michael nodded and sighed. “I guess,” he said quietly. 

Samuel wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders and pulled him in close. “I’m sorry that you were embarrassed,” he said softly. “That was never my intention. And I’m sorry that you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m concerned. Mi. It feels like you’re shutting down on me.” 

Michael curled into Samuel. He had to talk about it. Otherwise he’d feel guilty -- or worse, Lucifer would find out and then Samuel would have to find out that way. “I had thought that maybe you weren’t good for me,” he admitted softly. “Then I decided that you were and when you came over with the ‘we need to talk now’, I thought that you were going to break up with me. Still do, a little bit.” 

“Ah, so you overreacted,” Samuel mused softly. “That’s okay, babe. I did too. But I wouldn’t break up with you over something like this. I get it and understand it. We just won’t put our careers on the line like that anymore and we’ll keep the good memories.” He kissed Michael’s hair. 

Michael snorted derisively. “Getting caught by Death is a good memory?” he asked skeptically. 

“I was referring to the blow job,” Samuel said bluntly. “That was some of the best head that I’ve ever gotten, hands down.” 

Michael flushed and smiled bashfully. “Thanks,” he murmured shyly. “Too bad that you didn’t get to finish, though.” 

“Want to finish me off after dinner, away from prying eyes?” Samuel offered. 

Michael smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. 

“Hey,” Samuel said, tipping Michael’s head up. He smiled. “I care about you.” 

Michael smiled and leaned in for a sweet, chaste kiss. “I care about you too. Now, let’s eat. I’m hungry.” 

Samuel’s bright and happy laugh was one of the sweetest things that Michael’s heard all day and it made him grin like an idiot. 

He’s not sure why he ever thought that Samuel was bad for him. 

_ Dumb brain.  _


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Samuel have some *actual* alone time together

Michael and Samuel giggled as they entered Michael’s bedroom, kissing and playfully groping each other, even as they undressed. By the time that Michael had shoved Samuel down and onto the bed, both of their jackets were off, their pants were undone. Michael’s belt was somewhere in the hallway, and the ties had been lost long ago. Michael’s shirt was halfway off and down his arms; Samuel’s shirt was just open, exposing his own broad chest. 

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” Michael said, looking down at his boyfriend. 

“So do you,” Samuel breathed, eyes a vibrant shade of the violet-red of arousal. He sat up. 

Michael once again dropped to his knees, eyeing the way that Samuel’s cock curved towards the left, his mouth salivating. He had spent half the day wondering what would’ve happened if he had been able to finish the blow job from earlier. 

Before Michael could even touch Samuel, however, he was being hauled up onto his feet, his back being pressed against Samuel’s strong chest. One gloved hand laid splayed across his chest; the other reached for his cock. “Samuel!” he gasped

“Do you have any idea how fuckin’ hot it was, seeing you drop to your knees in the middle of the courthouse bathroom,” Samuel drawled in his ear, his voice dark and husky. It sent shivers down Michael’s spine, “and all because you were so eager to suck my cock? How hot it was to know that you put yourself in a predicament that you would’ve never put yourself in initially, and see that you were  _ enjoying  _ yourself like that?” 

Michael hadn’t exactly thought about it in  _ that  _ way, but he couldn’t deny what Samuel was saying. He normally would have never, in a millennia, had done that without that gentle prompting. And he  _ did  _ enjoy himself, up until Death interrupted. There was something so incredibly taboo about it, so hot about it, the clandestine meeting and the feeling of ‘hope we don’t get caught’ to it, that he forgot that he was never a fan of it. Instead, he groaned as Samuel wrapped a hand around Michael’s cock. 

“We’ll repeat that one day, in a better location,” Samuel murmured. “Maybe a movie theater. But for now… fuck, Mi, I just need this. Can I do this? Can I jerk you off with my gloves on and have you writhe against me?” 

Michael groaned loudly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “You can.” 

“Good,” Samuel groaned, holding Michael tight to him as he stroked Michael. The cool leather felt amazing against Michael’s heated skin and made him feel dizzy with the unique sensation. It was so smooth and soft and the actions of Samuel twisting his wrist on the upstrokes was making him keen. He was going to have a damn fetish for Samuel’s gloves once all was said and done. He could feel the magic coursing through the material, feel it vibrate against his own magic, almost coaxing him to come play. 

Michael leaned back and twisted his head to kiss Samuel. The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but neither of them cared as they fell into the abyss of pleasure and want. He rocked his hips back into Samuel, and the Cambion groaned, rocking his hips forward into the Angel’s plump ass. Michael grabbed Samuel’s hair and he groaned. 

It was raw, it was intense, it was perfect. Michael felt completely comfortable and sexy in his completely half dressed state, being rocked into and stroked off as he was kissed to insensibility. 

There were few things in life that came close for Michael feeling like he was back in Heaven again, and this was one of those things that made him feel that feeling. He squirmed and writhed in pleasure, his mouth never leaving Samuel’s except for large lungfuls of air and even then there wasn’t much space between them. He tugged lightly on Samuel’s hair continuously, a way for the two of them to stay connected as Michael felt himself dive over the precipice of no return. 

“So fuckin’ hot, Mi,” Samuel breathed against Michael’s tender lips. “You’re gonna cum soon. I can feel it, the way your cock is pulsing.” 

The friction of the leather against his soft skin and the electric fire burning through his core made it very sure that the only thing that Michael could say in response to that was a very loud moan of Samuel’s name.

“That’s it,” Samuel coaxed. “Satan’s Realm, I love hearing you like this. Knowing that I only get to see it is just the best part about it. Knowing that you trust me to see you like this, hear you like this,  _ feel  _ you like this.” 

Michael groaned and nipped Samuel’s lower lip. 

“I’ve got you, Mi, you can get let go,” Samuel whispered. 

That was all Michael needed and he came with a cry, his wings flaring out suddenly as he spilled all over his stomach and Samuel’s gloved hand. He could feel wetness against his back, soaking through the wool pants and he shivered as he realized that Samuel came with him, and all just from rutting against him, kissing him, and stroking him off. 

The two fell backwards in a collapsed heat, Michael purring low in his throat as he took in Samuel’s completely debauched state. As he looked over him, his eyes widened as he watched Samuel raise his hand to his lips and licked the cum off of the glove. 

“Fuck,” he swore.

“Maybe later,” Samuel chuckled. “Maybe later.” 

Michael laughed and sat up. He discarded his slacks and shirt, stretching naked. He then laid back down next to Samuel and groaned as Samuel sat up to do the same thing. The gloves went onto the nightstand and the two crawled into bed. 

“You know, I just thought of something,” Samuel asked as he nestled into Michael’s arms.

“What’s that?” Michael asked. 

“How long was Death standing there before he decided to speak up?” Samuel asked. 

There was a silence throughout the bedroom as the two of them thought about it. 

“You know,” Michael said after a time. “I’m not sure if I  _ want  _ to know how long he had been standing there, watching us.” 

Samuel nodded. “You’re right.” 

More silence followed, Samuel kissing a spot on Michael’s chest while Michael traced foreign patterns into Samuel’s skin. 

“I need to know, though,” Michael added. 

“Tomorrow,” Samuel murmured. “Or even Monday. This weekend, you’re mine.” 

Michael raised a brow. “Oh?” 

Samuel hummed. “Yes. We’re doing some stuff this weekend. Remember?” 

Michael smiled fondly at Samuel and leaned down to kiss him. “I didn’t forget,” he promised. He hadn’t forgotten that he and Samuel were going to go on several dates over the weekend. “I’m excited for the concert tomorrow.” 

“And I’m excited to see you flushed and tipsy,” Samuel teased, kissing the point of Michael’s chin. 

Michael laughed softly and squeezed Samuel to him. “Then we best get some sleep, since we’ve got a full weekend ahead of us.” 

Samuel snuggled closer as the blankets pulled up higher. “Night Mi. I care about you.” 

Michael smiled and kissed the top of Samuel’s head. “I care about you, too,” he whispered. “I’ll see you in our dreams.” 

Samuel smiled and within minutes, the two were asleep. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The landmark recusal is made

“All rise for the Honorable Death!” 

Michael stood with the rest of the courtroom as Death swept in, his heart pounding. He was going to have to recuse himself from this case, having spotted Samuel over at the defendant’s table. 

Michael knew that if he didn’t recuse himself, Death would  _ have  _ to declare a mistrial and then there would go both his and Samuel’s reputations. Their relationship may be worth that, but they weren’t risking it. 

He just really wished that they were told who the defense attorneys are prior to the preliminary hearings. If only so that there wouldn’t be a giant media circus about him and Samuel. 

He had told Samuel that he would be the one to recuse himself from cases because defense attorneys like Samuel were hard to come by, and he wasn’t about to make any client of Samuel’s give up their lawyer and waste their time and possibly money just because he was in a fucking relationship with the Grand Prosecutor. Samuel had offer to split the recusals, but Michael reminded him that his salary from the Powers That Be was guaranteed; the legal fees and retainers from clients wasn’t. While Samuel was still a public defender and therefore still had a steady, reliable income, the money that he made from defending the wealthy was more important. There was also the fact that Michael was more established than Samuel and could take a few recusals and not have it harm him as much. Samuel let it go, but Michael knew that it would be brought up again. 

“We’re here to discuss the preliminary hearing of Ishmael of the Grey Feathers, who is answering to charges of homicide in the first degree and adultery that was allegedly committed in the Fourth Quadrant,” the bailiff announced as everyone sat down after Death assumed his bench. 

“Are all parties available, present, and adequately prepared to conduct the proceedings of the day?” Death asked quietly. 

This was the moment. “No, your Honor,” Michael announced as he stood up. He grasped the edge of the prosecutor’s table tightly as he felt all eyes fall on him. 

“Please, for the record, state who you are, who you represent and explain why you’re recusing yourself from the case,” Death said, looking somewhat relieved that Michael was being a mature Angel and recusing himself rightfully from the case. 

“I am Michael of the White Feathers,” Michael announced, his heart racing. “I am the Grand Prosecutor and due to ethical reasons, I have to recuse myself from the case.”

“For what ethical reasons do you have to recuse yourself from this case?” Death inquired. 

Michael cleared his throat.  _ Here goes nothing _ he thought just before he spoke. “The ethical reason that I am recusing myself from the case dealing with the charges on Ishmael of the Grey Feathers is the fact that I am in a romantic and sexual relationship with his attorney, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell.” 

An almost deathly hush fell over the courtroom as Death turned his piercing gaze to Samuel. “Is what Michael of the White Feathers proclaims true, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell?” 

“Is what that he spoke true, your Honor?” Samuel asked in an entirely too innocent voice as he stood.  _ Bastard _ , Michael thought affectionately as he kept his eyes forward. He did crack a smile, however. 

Michael surmised mentally that Samuel had asked for clarification for the court records, since he didn’t want to say that he agreed to something without having it verified that it was said. This was confirmed as Death asked, “Is it true that you are romantically and sexually involved with the Grand Prosecutor, Michael of the White Feathers?” 

“It is true, your Honor. Michael of the White Feathers and I are romantically and sexually involved with each other, and we have no plans of stopping that involvement for the foreseeable future,” Samuel replied. Michael rolled his eyes, the smile on his face growing bigger. 

He looked over and caught Lucifer’s eye. His younger brother smirked and showed him a small stack of steno pad pages about what was transpiring, and Michael internally groaned. The headline tomorrow was probably going to be something vaguely pornographic, knowing Lucifer.  _ Do not embarrass me, _ he prayed to Lucifer. Lucifer gave a nod, jotting a note down. 

“As both parties have agreed to the statement provided by the Grand Prosecutor, Michael of the White Feathers,” Death said slowly as if he wasn’t the one who had caught them in the men’s bathroom just two weeks ago, “I have no choice but to accept Michael of the White Feather’s recusal from this case. For me to not accept this recusal on these grounds would be a violation of the legal code of ethics. There will be a continuance granted for the prosecution. This preliminary hearing will be postponed for two weeks from today at nine in the morning so that the State can find a new prosecutor to try the case. If a prosecutor cannot be found, then the state will reimburse Ishmael of the Grey Feathers the legal fees that he has already paid for Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell to represent him so that he can seek out new representation. Court is adjourned.” 

The banging of the gavel was so loud in the courtroom that Michael jumped and he very quickly began making his escape in an attempt to avoid speaking with any and all reporters. Lucifer was the only one who will get to talk to him (and end up writing a piece fit for a gossip rag with some asinine headline like  _ Ten Signs That Michael and Samuel were Together Before the Recusal  _ or some shit like that). He just needed to  _ hide.  _

Besides, Samuel knew just how to draw him out of hiding. 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A domestic day at home

Michael woke up to the feeling of talons in his hair and he groaned happily, snuggling more into the warm body next to him. 

“Well, good morning to you too,” Samuel chuckled as he kissed the top of Michael’s head. “Did my beautiful Angel sleep well?” 

Michael smiled and stirred a little. “Complete with wonderful dreams,” he said. “Did my handsome Cambion also enjoy his rest?” 

“He did,” Samuel smiled. “I enjoy sleeping and dreaming with you.” 

“Good,” Michael yawned. He curled even more into Samuel. 

“We should get up, it’s already nine,” Samuel chuckled. 

“No,” Michael hummed. “It’s Saturday, we don’t have court, we are completely off of work. Neither of us are on call for arraignments, and I’ve already called your secretary to tell her to direct all cases away from you for today.” 

“Oh, did you now?” Samuel chuckled. “And whose authority did you do this under? Michael the boyfriend or Michael the Angel?” 

“Michael the Angelic boyfriend,” Michael laughed as he finally lifted his head up to gaze up at his boyfriend. 

Samuel laughed and leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss. Michael reciprocated, cupping the side of Samuel’s face. 

They kissed lazily for a time, doing nothing but relaxing and basking in the other’s presence. There was nothing to do but enjoy the feeling of the heat of the other person pressed against them, gentle fingers tracing the patterns of love and passion against supple skin, soft lips to press sweet kisses to. There was no urgency to their movements, only tenderness and the laziness of people who finally have the time to do so and share it with each other. 

The quiet peacefulness of tranquil love was interrupted by the very obnoxious and loud growling of Samuel’s stomach. 

Both of them giggled and Michael slowly pulled away. “I’ll go make breakfast,” he said. “Providing that you actually have food in the fridge.” 

Samuel chuckled and stretched in bed, giving a yawn. “Are you sure you don’t want to order out?” he hummed. 

“Sweetheart, I am,” Michael chuckled. “I want to cook, so I’m cooking breakfast burritos. I’ll even use that horrid excuse for bacon in yours.” 

“It’s not ‘horrid’, it’s turkey bacon,” Samuel said as he sat up to watch Michael slip on a pair of sleep pants. 

“It’s an abomination to what bacon truly is, Sam,” Michael said affectionately. He turned and smirked at the lewd smile on his boyfriend’s face. “Tuck Mr. Monster away now,” he teased, “It’s time for me to cook and for you to get up and wait for me to give you breakfast.” 

“I do so love it when you talk dirty,” Samuel chuckled. He rolled over onto his stomach, stretching, the covers having moved and exposing his tight ass. 

Michael just couldn’t help but slapping it on his way out, cackling at the howl and the whine of his name that Samuel emitted. 

He knew that Samuel would get him back. Eventually.

Breakfast was made in short order, Samuel appearing from his bedroom once the smell of freshly brewed coffee reached his nose. Michael handed him his ‘poor man’s cappuccino’ before sneaking a kiss and taking a sip of his own black coffee, sighing happily as he flipped the “real” bacon for his burrito and scrambled the eggs and cheese a little bit more. Samuel hummed and kissed Michael’s cheek in thanks before waiting for breakfast. 

“Here you go, one low carb, high protein breakfast burrito for a handsome defense attorney,” Michael hummed a few minutes later, setting the plate down in front of his boyfriend, who was seated at the dining room table. 

“You even used the low carb tortillas,” Samuel smiled. “Thank you.” 

“Of course I did,” Michael said, kissing Samuel’s temple. “You’re very welcome, baby.” 

Samuel smiled. He went to pinch Michael’s ass as he walked away, but Michael danced out of the way with a laugh. 

“Nice try,” he said playfully as he began to assemble his burrito. 

“Damn,” Samuel said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thought I had you.” 

“But you didn’t,” Michael sang happily. 

The day passed in a lazy sort of fashion. After breakfast, Samuel insisted that he wash the dishes, since Michael cooked (and really, Michael couldn’t argue with that sort of logic). Once that was done and the leftovers were put up (since Michael had never learned how to not cook enough for a small army), the two made their way to the living room and pulled up their laptops. It may be Saturday, and they may not need to be at the office, but they  _ did  _ have briefs to write and reviews to review and other fun things that came from being in the legal profession. Michael put on a bit of music and they kept it low as they curled up on the couch, near enough to offer sweet touches and kisses but far enough away that the other couldn’t read what the other was writing. 

They spent hours like that, writing and asking a few benign questions concerning spelling, grammar, or small matters of law that didn’t give away what they were writing. They answered emails and just basked in the tranquility of being together. 

It was quiet. It was peaceful. And they relished in it. 

They broke for a quick lunch, making cold cut sandwiches side by side and quietly teasing each other. They ate standing up in the kitchen, smiling and standing close to each other. They exchanged quick kisses and affectionate touches. Once they were both done eating, they went back to work until dinner, passing the afternoon much in the same way as they passed the morning. 

Dinner was a combined affair, with Samuel making a salad and Michael making steaks, both of them making sure that the dishes were flavorful as they talked and exchanged sweet kisses. Samuel poured them each a glass of wine and they ate dinner sitting almost on top of each other, just enjoying each other’s company. Samuel was scandalized by how much cheese Michael put on his salad, while Michael gently ribbed him for the low calorie ranch that Samuel was using. 

After dinner, they retired once more to the living room. They put on a long, boringish movie for background noise as they got settled in the middle of the living room. Michael brought forth his wings and Samuel settled down behind him, handing him his gloves on the way. Michael got out the treatment for the leather, hearing Samuel’s knuckles crack as he got ready to groom the wings. It had been far too long since either the leather of Samuel’s gloves were treated or Michael’s wings had been groomed, and both had made the quiet, executive decision without speaking to do this for each other, knowing that the process could take hours. 

And it did. They were thankful that tomorrow was Sunday, as Samuel straightened out misaligned feathers and Michael painstakingly patched a small hole in the thumb joint area of one of Samuel’s gloves before treating it. The smell of leather oil and Michael’s natural scent permeated the air, and as the night wore on, encroaching upon the territory of dawn, the tense arousal in the air thickened. They held off, though. They had their duties to do, and they were going to finish them before succumbing to their more passionate desires. The movie ended long before they were finished, going into reruns of old shows, but neither of them cared. 

They hardly spoke; they didn’t really need to. Not when Michael knew Samuel didn’t mean to cause him pain when he had to remove a feather; not when Samuel knew that Michael knew how to oil his gloves just right and perfect. They could communicate without speaking, anyways, but they had even opted to turn off their telepathic connection to just  _ be  _ in the moment and to not fill up the space with inane chatter. 

At long last, just before the first blush of dawn, they finished. Michael’s wings were bright and almost shone in the dim light of the living room; Samuel’s gloves had been restored to their former glory. Michael placed the gloves over by the window, even as he tucked his wings behind him so as not to upturn anything before turning to Samuel. 

“Bed?” he asked as he walked over, wrapping his arms around Samuel. 

“Bed,” Samuel agreed, wrapping his arms around Michael. “I care about you.” 

Michael kissed Samuel sweetly. “I care about you, too,” he murmured. “Very much.” 

“Good.” With a twinkle and a smirk, Samuel gently but firmly pinched Michael’s flank and flitted off to the bedroom with a laugh, Michael hot on his heels.

  
  



	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to be a sweet evening turns harrowing for the couple

Michael laughed as he playfully shoved Samuel off the path as they made their way back to the Angel’s house. It was a cool, crisp night and the moon was shining brightly overhead, stars twinkling. In other words, a perfect night.

Michael felt  _ great _ . Barring the embarrassment of having to make their relationship a matter of public record (and the subsequent hounding from the vultures -- or, excuse  _ him,  _ the media), he had never felt better. He felt like he was young and free again, like he was about to take up the mantle of General once more, or maybe like he had a fifty case win streak again (oh, those were the days). He just felt  _ great _ . Fantastic, even. And utter happiness beamed from him as he walked with Samuel. 

Samuel also seemed brighter and happier as well. His eyes almost seemed to be permanently in shades of blues, greens, and warm browns, with hardly any other color appearing. The only other common eye color Samuel had on a regular basis was the violet red that Michael loved to see, as it meant that Samuel was horny and ready to  _ fuck. _

Samuel bounced back onto the path and slipped his hand back into Michael’s with a laugh. “You made me bite my lip,” he playfully pouted. 

“Oh, did I?” Michael asked with faux innocence. “Well, then, I’m sorry baby. Let me kiss it better.” He then stopped and pulled Samuel close and kissed him sweetly in the middle of the park by the water fountain. Samuel melted, his fingers grasping at the light jacket that Michael was wearing. The scratches on Michael’s back from their most recent round of sex tingled as they always did when Samuel touched him after scratching him. Apparently it had something to do with some weird ass things that had to do with magic and bonding and other things, but Samuel was distracting Michael at the moment, so he didn’t pay attention while his hair was gently finger combed. 

Behind him, he heard soft whispering. He slowly broke the kiss as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. His body tensed, going on red alert. 

“I heard it too,” Samuel whispered. “Mi, I think that we’re about to be in the middle of another  _ go-nach. _ ” 

“This is essentially the only time that I wish you were one or the other completely and utterly,” Michael murmured with a sigh. “Because I  _ really  _ don’t like the idea of you being hurt. Or worse, murdered.” 

Samuel snorted. “I don’t relish the idea of being murdered because of my forced parentage either,” he grumbled. 

“We’ve got ourselves one, boys!” A young Demon called out, red eyes shining brightly.  _ Crossroads _ , Michael thought absently as he watched four other red-eyed Demons appeared out of the shadows. “And look what else we bagged us, gents. A nice and pretty little Angel.” 

Michael tucked Samuel behind him as he called forth his sword. “This Cambion is under  _ my  _ protection,” he snarled. “I advise you to go home and rethink your miserable, pathetic ant lives.” 

“Ant lives,” Samuel whispered softly in amusement. “Of all the words in the forty plus languages you know and all of the clever insults, you go with  _ ant lives.  _ Brilliant. Just brilliant.” 

“Shut up,” Michael hissed under his breath. 

“I’m just sayin’,” Samuel murmured with a smirk. 

“Nah, dawg, I don’t think so,” the ringleader of the Demons drawled. “A disposal of a trash heap and the kidnapping of an Angel? Damn, my sentence in prison would be a long one -- assuming that I’d serve any time.” He laughed. “As if!” 

Oh Michael  _ hated  _ these guys in his courtroom. The ones who thought that because of their species (Demons were notorious for this), their very expensive good lawyer (Samuel was still the best), their family, or even the fact that the person that they murdered was a  _ Lo-Zhang,  _ that they could get away with a heinous crime on a  _ Lo-Zhang - _ \- like Samuel. Michael was the hardest on them in court. “I’ll make sure that you serve time,” he promised, “you soggy pieces of wet cardboard.” 

“Nice,” Samuel said. “There was more impact there.” 

“Oh, what are ya, a  _ cop? _ ” the ringleader sneered. He sounded like a pompous dickhead of a teenaged brat. “Wooo, a big bad cop. I’m  _ so  _ scared.” 

“I’m not a cop, you  _ moth eaten family heirloom, _ ” Michael snapped. 

“Mi, let’s just go,” Samuel said, laying a gentle hand on Michael’s shoulder and squeezing. “They’re not worth the fight. You can snap all of their backs with just a thought.” He looked directly at the Demons with a very Demon-like sneer. “They’re just a bunch of backwater punks who probably still have Mommy tuck them in and have her make them grilled cheese with the crusts cut off. You have nothing to prove to them.” 

Michael turned slightly and looked at his boyfriend’s profile with a small smile. “You’re right.” He lowered his sword slightly. 

The Demons advanced and Michael raised his sword into a guard position. “Samuel, stay back,” he commanded. 

“No, this is  _ my  _ fight, and I’m no damsel in distress,” Samuel snorted. “I’ll stand here and fight by your side.” 

“You’re such a fuckin’ sap, you nerd,” Michael playfully accused. 

“Of course, I’m with you,” Samuel said. Two daggers shimmered into existence and placed themselves into his gloved hands. 

The Demons also prepared for battle, a variety of axes and swords coming into being.

Michael’s blood raced. A fight! He was going to be in a fight! He hasn’t been in a fight that didn’t involve quick wit and clever words in eons. And into the fact that it was to protect his boyfriend and therefore was an opportunity to show off, and he was more than looking forward to this fight. He was ready to  _ go. _

Suddenly, just as the charge was about to happen, there was an ominous creaking of stone from behind the couple. Michael and Samuel turned, only to gasp and gawk as the stone fountain that they just shared a kiss near began to turn in an effort to fall on everyone in its path. 

The duo turned back to look at the Demons, who looked just as stunned. “Did you do this?!” Michael bellowed loudly. 

“Hell no, dude!” the leader said, sounding like he was scared for the first time. “We can’t fuck around without that much magic. Not even us five together could do that! Fuckin’ Christ man!” 

“What are we gonna do?” one of the other Demons asked. 

The fountain began to tip. The Demons remembered that they had legs and began to run away. Samuel threw his daggers down and into the ground a safe distance away from them and began weaving a spell, his hands moving in an intricate pattern. Michael took a closer look and watched the beginning of a net form. 

“Samuel, you know that you can’t catch the damn fountain with that,” Michael said urgently. 

“No,” Samuel replied through gritted teeth as he concentrated on his task, “but I can at least try to slow it down.”

Like a tree about to fall, the stone began to crumble and tip even more. It was now completely unstable, and was just about to fall. 

“Samuel, you’re not going to finish that net in time,” Michael said. “Let’s move before it falls on us!” 

“I’m almost done!” Samuel shot back, stubborn as a mule. 

Michael’s wings flared out in agitation as he took another look at the fountain, water spraying everywhere. 

He heard the loud crack not a moment too soon. He reacted and leapt closer to Samuel. The fountain was falling rapidly, water spewing everywhere as the base gave way. He was going to get soaked, and that was okay. Michael said  _ timber  _ to himself as he almost threw Samuel out of harm’s way in time. Making some quick calculations, he threw himself flat on the ground, covering himself with his wings. He hardened his feathers to the point where they would be unbreakable. 

The last thing Michael remembered before the fountain landed on him was Samuel screaming his name and the sound of water hitting the ground and trees. 


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael wakes up in the hospital

Michael slowly opened his eyes, squinting harshly against the bright fluorescent lights bearing down on him. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Where am I?” he asked grouchily, his voice hoarse. 

“Oh thank the Maker you’re awake!” Samuel breathed, squeezing one of Michael’s hands. “You’re in the hospital, angel.” 

That explained the fluorescents from Hell and the needle in his hand and the fact that he was actually  _ freezing. _ “Can I have some water?” he asked softly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Samuel said. He reached over and grabbed a cup of water. It was then that Michael swore the lights and the no-doubt concussion he sustained was making him see things. 

“Are you not wearing your gloves?” he asked softly as he accepted the water.” 

Samuel gave a sheepish smile and nodded. “They said it’d help you,” he said. He gently ran a claw over the veins in Michael’s hand, the one without the IV. “Is it helping?” 

“A little,” Michael admitted. “I’m just surprised that you’re doing it in public. You hate having them off in public.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t care,” Samuel smiled. “And besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had them off for reasons other than coitus.” 

Michael laughed softly and drank his water slowly. “How bad am I?” 

“Concussion, some cracked ribs, a broken wing,” Samuel recited. “And a sprained ankle.” 

“Lovely,” Michael said dryly. “The wing is going to take so fucking long to heal.” 

“I know,” Samuel said. “And I’ll be here to help you. I can port both of us.” 

“Is that what you call it?” Michael asked softly with a smile. 

“Yes, yes it is,” Samuel hummed with a smile. He leaned in and kissed Michael’s nose. “I care about you very much.” 

Michael smiled and tilted his face up for another kiss. “I care about you too.” He shifted and winced. 

“Do you want me to call the doctor?” Samuel asked softly. 

“That would probably be smart. Who  _ is _ my doctor?” 

“Michael, you inconceivable idiot,” a new voice said. Strong and powerful. 

Michael groaned. “Hello, Raphael.” 

Raphael snorted, their dark gaze piercing through their brother. “Don’t ‘hello, Raphael’ me,” they snapped. “I’m here on a sixteen hour shift, they tell me that I have a high priority Angel case coming in, and then I see the EMTs wheel  _ your dumbass in _ .” 

Michael winced. 

“And then I hear it’s because a fuckin’ fountain fell on you,” Raphael continued, crossing their arms over their chest. 

“I’m sorry, sissy,” Michael said contritely. 

“You better be, you fucking dumb oaf,” Raphael said. Turning towards Samuel, they smiled softly. “You must be Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and the House of Campbell, otherwise known as my idiot brother’s boyfriend.” 

Samuel nodded and gave a chuckle. “That I am.” 

“I’m sorry,” Raphael said bluntly. 

Samuel chuckled again and waved a hand. “It’s fine. He’s normally not this much of a dumbass.” 

Raphael laughed. “Oh, you should have met him when we were fledglings and young Angels,” they said. “I was  _ always  _ patching him up. Always.” 

“Raphi,” Michael pouted. 

“You have scared the living shit out of me, Michael of the White Feathers, and most likely your boyfriend,” Raphael snapped. “I will do exactly as I please.” 

Michael sighed heavily. “I know,” he said quietly. 

Raphael nodded and smirked at them. “I bet you got your boyfriend all hot and bothered, pulling your valiant white knight act out on him.” 

“I was more concerned about him possibly being dead,” Samuel spoke up. 

Michael winced again. 

“Still. You were probably a little turned on,” Raphael said, going over Michael’s chart before going over to do his vital signs. 

“A little during the prior attempted  _ go-nach, _ ” Samuel said. “Michael with his sword is a sight to see.” 

Raphael arched an elegantly done eyebrow and smirked. “I bet it is.” 

Michael’s mind went directly into the gutter and he coughed. “ _ Raphael!”  _

“What?” Raphael asked innocently. “I’m just saying. All of the Angels when we were younger thought you were hot. I’m just voicing those ideas years later.” 

“You are my  _ sister _ ,” Michael scolded. “Incest is not a kink of mine.” 

“It may be mine,” Raphael said with a dead expression as they wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Michael’s arm. 

Michael sighed. It was going to be a long hospital stay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love my Raphael sometimes


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has to stay at the hospital. It sucks.

Raphael had made the executive decision to torture their oldest brother by prescribing him a week at the hospital with neurological checks three times a day when they also managed to do his vital signs. Michael protested, saying that he didn’t even  _ need  _ a week at the hospital. What this earned him was a lecture from Raphael, who listed all of his injuries in order of less severe (the sprained ankle) to the most severe (cracked ribs and concussion), explained how serious they were, and why they, as a medical professional, felt that that particular injury warranted so many days in the hospital. During this, Samuel said and did nothing, just watched and smiled as Raphael talked. Finally, Michael agreed to not sign out of the hospital against medical advice upon pain of excruciating, debilitating, and maddening pain, not necessarily caused by a fountain falling onto him. Raphael was satisfied with that. 

Once Raphael had left to go put orders in and to ask housekeeping for a cot so that Samuel could sleep in the same room as Michael, Michael looked over at his boyfriend. “So, is there a reason that the fountain fell?” he asked. 

“They’re looking into it,” Samuel hummed. “There’s two leading theories. One is that the Demons attempting this  _ go-nach  _ lied about their abilities and spelled the fountain, but didn’t realize that they would be caught in the line of fire, so to speak. The other is that the spellwork on the fountain became degraded or wasn’t properly maintained and the combined magics of a Cambion of Yellow Eye descent, an Angel of the White Feathers, and five Demons of the Crossroads was just too much. Naomi is taking a look into it.” 

Michael nodded as he thought. “Both are equally possible,” he said. “And speaking of the Demons-” 

“All of them are in police custody,” Samuel informed Michael. “They’re facing charges of criminal conspiracy, aiding and abetting, two counts of attempted murder in the first, and a few other charges, mostly summary offenses. If it’s found that they tampered with the fountain, then they get vandalism charges and a few others.” 

Michael sighed and nodded. “Good, good, I’m glad to hear that,” he said. He looked over at his boyfriend. “You’re doing okay, right?” he asked. 

Samuel huffed a laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay. Physically at least.” 

Michael sighed. “I’m sorry that I scared you,” he whispered.

“You didn’t scare me,” Samuel whispered back. Michael went to take a sigh of relief, but then Samuel continued. “You terrified me.” 

Michael’s entire world came crashing down at that point. That was the last thing that he wanted, to make Samuel feel terrified. 

“I thought that I was going to lose you before we could grow into something more,” Samuel pressed on. “When they pulled the fountain off of you and I saw that you were broken and bloody, but breathing, I fucking  _ cried  _ because I knew you were going to be somewhat okay. They had to pry me away from you to get you into the ambulance, even though you tightened your grip on me, just so naturally. I wish that I could have helped you more. I wish that I could’ve done more to make sure that you didn’t get hurt, or that if you did, you weren’t as badly hurt as you are now. I wish that you didn’t feel the need to save me.” He cupped Michael’s face. “I was terrified that I would lose you when we were only just beginning.” 

“I’m sorry that I terrified you,” Michael whispered. “I was just trying to protect you.” 

“I know, Mi. My sweet, handsome knight. I know,” Samuel smiled gently. 

Michael sniffled suddenly, feeling tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly. 

“Oh, Angel,” Samuel whispered just as softly. He crawled up into the bed next to Michael and wrapped his arms around him. Michael leaned and curled up in the comforting embrace and sniffled again. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Samuel whispered. “It was terrifying, yes, but that’s because you mean so much to me, and I didn’t want to lose you so soon.” 

Michael nodded and he curled more into Samuel. 

“I’ve got you, Angel,” Samuel whispered. “You were strong for me once. It’s my turn to be strong for you.” 

It was easy, after that, for Michael to let the tears fall silently as he softly cried. He cried into the Cambion’s shirt, just overcome with so many different emotions that it was hard to distinguish between them. Samuel said nothing about it, just held the Angel while he let everything out. 

After a time, the tears died down and Michael kept his face pressed against Samuel’s shoulder, holding onto him tightly. Samuel held him just as tightly, not saying anything. 

“I care about you,” Michael whispered softly after a time. “So much.” 

Samuel smiled and pressed the softest kiss in the world to Michael’s forehead. It made him feel like the most special being in the universe. “I care about you too, Mi,” Samuel whispered tenderly. “Get some sleep, love. You’ve had such a long day. I’ll be right here, the entire time.” 

Michael nodded and yawned as Samuel drew the blanket up higher around his boyfriend. And with that, the Angel fell into an easy, dreamless sleep. 

The days inched by, and Samuel hardly left his side, ignoring his own work (much to Michael’s chastisement) in order to be with his boyfriend. Raphael saw him at least twice a day to check in on him and to make sure no tests needed to be done. Naomi swung by to inform Michael that the fountain’s spellwork was so severely degraded, that even a low level magic user would’ve been able to tip it over summoning a cup of water, never mind the magical magnitude of a fight of seven powerful beings. The caretaker was in custody for magical misconduct and for a few charges relating to the care of the fountain and the park in general. Apparently, several code violations were found. She wished Michael well and left. 

Michael went for a walk for a physical therapy walk every morning in the garden, after breakfast, Samuel holding his hand and they talked about whatever came to mind, smiling and laughing. Samuel’s sole goal was to make sure that Michael didn’t feel guilty about what happened, and to keep his mind out of the “what-ifs”. After lunch was reserved, when there weren’t visitors or nurses or Raphael, for legal discussions and debates over the finer points of law. 

Death came after the third day to give his well wishes, and he had stayed to help act as a mediator during their discussions, where it tended to get a little heated -- not that they minded. They were, after all, respectful of how debates were  _ usually  _ resolved this time. 

It wasn’t until day five that Lucifer showed up. 

Lucifer was looking like Hell. His shoes, as well as his socks, were mismatched, the jeans he was wearing had what looked to have at one point been beans all down the right pantleg, he was wearing a sweatshirt that proclaimed in bold letters on the front  _ CIA: Cock Inspection Agency,  _ also covered in beans. At least, Michael  _ hoped  _ it was beans. Lucifer’s hair was in about fifty directions, looking like he licked a high powered electrical socket. It was greasier than usual, which meant that Lucifer probably hadn’t showered in a while. There was ink strewn all over his hands and face, and Lucifer looked like he was a crackhead. 

Michael almost couldn’t  _ wait  _ to hear the explanation. 

“I have been working on the  _ biggest story of my career _ , where I don’t know what the sun or the streets or even people I love look like,” Lucifer began.

Michael internally groaned. He knew where this was going. 

“Gadreel had to literally pry me away from my computer,” Lucifer continued, “to show me the headline that ran in the papers, because I never heard the physical words of  _ your older brother is in the hospital _ . And you know what the headline I read was?” 

“No,” Michael said, knowing fully well that Lucifer was going to tell him anyways. 

“ _Grand Prosecutor Injured Due to A Fountain Falling On Him,_ ” Lucifer recited. “Jesus fucking Satan, I didn’t even hear _my_ _phone go off because I’m still your emergency contact_. And I had at least three dozen voicemails from Raphael updating me on your condition and I had _no idea. For five days. That you were sitting on your fat ass in the hospital because you’re HURT!!_ ” 

Michael looked up at his brother. “At least this time you were notified,” he mentioned. 

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT, MICHAEL!” Lucifer shouted. 

“Can you keep your harpy voice down to a minimum?” Michael asked. “I’m fine. A bit banged up-” 

“ _ A bit banged up, _ ” Lucifer repeated. “I’m  _ so glad  _ that it’s only ‘a bit’ and not ‘a fuck ton’.” He looked over at Samuel. “I’m glad that you didn’t exactly authorize my brother being a goddamn savior.” 

“Lucifer,  _ language _ ,” Michael chastised gently. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck about my language,” Lucifer said. “Five DAYS!” 

“At least it wasn’t five weeks, with you coming over to my apartment unannounced and tripping over my crutches the time I broke my leg because I saved a puppy from the middle of the road and got hit by a pickup truck for my troubles,” Michael said mildly. “At least you were informed.” 

Lucifer inhaled sharply, then exhaled, deflating slightly. “I know,” he said. “But still. You and Raphi and Gabe -- you’re the only family I’ve really got left. And you’re the most reckless out of the four of us.” 

“Excuse me?” Michael arched an eyebrow. “ _ I’m  _ the most reckless? I seem to remember a certain Angel of the White Feathers deciding that he could free fall in the space between Heaven and Earth without burning out his energy when he was a teenager.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lucifer sniffed delicately. 

“Oh bullshit!” Michael chuckled. “You know  _ exactly  _ what I’m talking about.” 

“I’m talking about  _ since  _ the Collusion, you goddamn cocksucker,” Lucifer said. 

“He is a good cocksucker,” Samuel murmured mildly. 

Michael flushed as Lucifer whipped his head to look at Samuel, who was wearing a smug grin. “I did not want to know that,” Lucifer told the Cambion. 

“I know,” Samuel replied smugly. “I had to say  _ something  _ to get your focus elsewhere. Raphael’s chastised him and so have I.” 

Lucifer sighed and walked over to where Michael was reclined and wrapped his arms around his brother. “Stop being a dumb bitch,” he said as he hugged him tightly. 

Michael returned the tight hug, ignoring the searing pain in his ribcage. “You stop being a dumb bitch, what is  _ all over your shirt and jeans _ ?” 

“Beef tacos,” Lucifer admitted. “I had an accident involving a collapsing table and trying to save both food and laptop.” He gave a sheepish smile. “Gadreel wasn’t too happy.” 

“When was the last time you showered?” Michael asked honestly. 

“Don’t ask that,” Lucifer whined. “This isn’t about my lack of hygiene while I work. This is about you being a dumbass bitch.” 

Michael sighed and fell into the playful bickering with his brother. 

Everything was going to be alright. He could feel it. 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's last day at the hospital brings unexpected visitors

It was Michael’s last overnight stay in the hospital and holy fuck, he was glad for it. He couldn’t wait to go home and sleep in his own bed, not be awoken by nurses or doctors poking him so that they could test his blood pressure and check his temperature and do all that  _ doctor type stuff _ , where he could have the light off. 

And, most importantly, where he could sleep curled up next to Samuel’s very warm body. 

Samuel had left in search of slightly better hospital coffee and something green to eat, leaving Michael in bed with his laptop, streaming a TV show that he and Samuel were watching. He was opting instead to work on a very important document when he felt someone approach his room. He reached over for the plastic butter knife without stopping in his work. 

“Yeah, okay, Mickey boy,” he heard a very familiar voice snort, “a  _ plastic  _ butter knife? Really?” 

“If it can be turned into a prison shank then it’s good enough for me,” Michael quipped as he looked up at his youngest sibling. “Gabe, how’s it going?” 

“It’s going,” Gabriel grinned, reaching down and hugging his brother. Michael hugged Gabriel back with a smile. “Been busy.” 

“I’d say, traveling all over the Four Quadrants,” Michael said. “With gorgeous men and women every night. I’m almost jealous of you, you lucky bastard.” 

Gabriel laughed and gave a shrug. “I know it was  _ avant-garde  _ of me to go off onto a road often jerked off on,” he said, “considering that you went law, Luci went journalism, and Raphi went on to become a doctor, but hey, sex is great!” 

“Sex  _ is  _ wonderful,” Michael agreed. 

“Did you finally lose your virginity, Mickey?” Gabriel grinned like a lunatic. 

“That was lost eons ago,” Michael laughed. “Have your balls dropped?” 

Gabriel made a show of drawing his waistband away from his hips and looked down. “Yup, they’ve dropped and they’ve even got hair,” he said before grinning at his oldest brother. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” Michael chuckled. 

“I’m the fucking moron?” Gabriel asked. “I’m the one who’s a moron when you’re the dumb fuck who let himself get hit by a fountain.” 

“I didn’t allow myself to get hit,” Michael protested. “I rescued a civilian from danger and got hurt as a result because the fountain fell on me.” 

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow up. “You do realize that your boyfriend is no damsel in distress, right?” 

“I do,” Michael beamed. 

“Speaking of -- I’d never thought I’d see the day where I saw you with a man,” Gabriel grinned. “I thought your homosexuality was going to remain dormant for years to come.” 

“I’m bisexual, you dumbass,” Michael groaned. 

“Aren’t we all?” Gabriel quipped in a philosophical tone. 

“Raphi would rather do an autopsy on a floater than have sex,” Michael pointed out. 

“You’re not wrong, we gotta love little Raphi and their asexuality,” Gabriel said. 

Michael stared at Gabriel. “Gabriel, you do realize that they’re a good five inches taller than you  _ and  _ can still kick your ass from here to the Axis Mundi?” 

Gabriel waved an expansive hand. “That’s neither here nor there,” he said. “What is, is the fact that you’ve moved on from Anna and you’ve found yourself a drop dead gorgeous moose.” 

“Moose?” Michael said flatly. “Of all the animals on this godforsaken hunk of rock in space, you chose  _ moose _ ?” 

“Moose are  _ majestic  _ animals,” Gabriel sniffed delicately. “And considering that Sammykins is a tall fucker, it works. Besides, his hair’s the color of moose fur.” 

Michael simply stared at his brother. “Do you want to repeat that?” he asked. “Because I’m certain that telling a loved one  _ your hair is the color of a moose _ is a surefire way to get you smacked into the next century.” 

“I didn’t say  _ you  _ had to tell him that,” Gabriel laughed. “I’m just saying, he’s a moose.” 

“Who’s a moose?” Samuel asked as he returned with a tall, sandy haired man with eyes only found in romance novels. “Michael, this is my brother, Dean-” 

“Who is also my boyfriend,” Gabriel piped up. 

“Gabe,” the man called Dean said, looking at the younger Angel affectionately. The Human that Michael had only ever seen in pictures wandered over and shook Michael’s hand. “Dean.” 

“Michael,” Michael said, shaking his hand back. “I take it you came up for a visit?” 

“Well, when I’ve called Sammy’s flat-” 

“It’s  _ Samuel, _ or Sam,” Samuel said automatically. 

“-multiple times and then I hear he’s been camping at the hospital ‘cause you got hurt, I figured I’d make a stop up,” Dean said. “Plus, Gabriel wanted to check in on ya.” 

“Fair enough, I can’t blame you, I’d do the same,” Michael said. “So, what do you do for work?” 

“I’m a videographer and photographer,” Dean explained. “Freelance, but I get enough high profile jobs.” 

“He’s my personal photographer,” Gabriel announced. “We met at work.” 

“And fucked that night,” Dean added.

Both Samuel and Michael raised their eyes to the heavens and sighed. “So he photographs and videos you fucking other people?” Michael asked. 

“Multiple times,” Dean confirmed. “I don’t mind. It’s hot. And it gives me inspiration.” 

“Most of my latest pictures are done by him,” Gabriel said. “He makes me look good.” 

“That’s because you  _ do  _ look good, baby boy,” Dean said. Gabriel batted his lashes. 

“Heaven forbid that we’re that cute,” Michael murmured to Samuel. 

Samuel nodded and laid his gloved hand on top of Michael’s. “Agreed,” he said. “I’m thankful that we’re not that cute. Ever.” 

“Oh, definitely, we’re more refined,” Michael smiled. 

“BULLSHIT,” Dean and Gabriel shouted in unison. 

“You’re both secret saps,” Gabriel said. “And it’s adorable.” 

Michael and Samuel made twin faces of disgust before falling into more light conversation with their brothers.

He couldn’t  _ wait  _ to get home. 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael returns home

“I am  _ so  _ glad that we’re home,” Michael sighed as he and Samuel walked into Michael’s house. “Sleep, privacy to piss, I can lock a door, no one can yell at me for eating five gallons of ice cream and binging a reality show-” 

Samuel arched a brow at his boyfriend as he sat his bags down. “I think that last one isn’t going to happen,” he said, cutting Michael off. 

Michael turned and grinned at Samuel. “And, of course, spend some  _ wonderful  _ quality time with my handsome boyfriend,” he said. 

“Mmm, mhm, and you’re still on flying restrictions for a month,” Samuel smiled. “Raphael’s orders, and that is  _ one  _ Angel I do not want to cross.” 

Michael laughed. “True, trying to prove to a court on how they committed a murder would be  _ very  _ difficult.” 

“It would be, not to mention the media circus of an Angel of the White Feathers being on trial,” Samuel said. “And I say this -- keeping in mind how much I love you and adore you, and that it is you who is my handsome significant other and not them -- Raphael is drop dead  _ gorgeous. _ ” 

“Oh, I agree whole-heartedly,” Michael said. “And let’s be honest with ourselves: the Angel of the White Feathers that would be on trial for anything would be Lucifer.” 

Samuel laughed. “You are not wrong,” he said. “But enough talk. Let’s get settled in.” 

Michael smiled and nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he replied. 

And with that, the two of them set to work -- or, rather, Samuel  _ insisted  _ that he do  _ all  _ of the work and Michael go and relax in bed. To be fair, Michael’s ribs and wings were hurting and he was starting to favor his sprained ankle, so maybe allowing Samuel to do all of the work was the smart thing to do. 

As a result, Michael went and took a quick shower -- just to get the feeling of the hospital off of him, just to wash away the feeling of porting home with Samuel, just to smell like  _ him  _ again. He dried off and went to his bed, nude. Finding the debate that he was discussing for an upcoming edition of a law journal, he picked up where he left off, the pen making soft scratches against the legal pad. 

_ It has been asked before the Courts at several points where a  _ Lo-Zhang’s  _ loyalties would lie if there were to ever be a War Between Species. Why should this be a matter of law? Why are we only asking this of the offspring of two different species, and not asking it of those who are the offspring of one species? And what difference does it make? Time and time again, we have been shown that War destroys families on both sides, for species nor race nor the status that one holds has any meaning when it comes to defining family. Robert “Bobby” of the House of Singer, a noted mechanic from years before who also ran a home for at risk boys of all species, once said “Family doesn’t end with blood, and it doesn’t begin there either.” This is important to remind ourselves when asking questions such as these.  _

_ Loyalty isn’t an inherited trait; it is a trait that must be taught, and it is up to each individual being who and/or what they are loyal to. Loyalty is something that has to be earned, not demanded. The King who asks for fealty and who allows his subjects to develop that loyalty is more likely to receive it than the King who demands it.  _

_ If a War Between Species were to come, it needs to be a matter of law that  _ everyone’s  _ loyalties be questioned, and not just a  _ Lo-Zhang.  _ Just as a Nephilim can be on the side of Demons, an Angel could be on the side of Humans, or a Demon on the side of Angels. Species has no bearing on the matter of loyalty, and having laws that demand that  _ Lo-Zhangs  _ to pick a side with their heritage are archaic and barbaric, indicating a severe fall backwards in time, therefore losing any and all progress that we have made. Let us move forward together- _

“I said, ‘relax in bed’,” Samuel said, his voice obviously amused. Michael looked up to see him standing in the doorway, leaning up against the frame, “Not ‘work in bed’.” 

Michael smiled lovingly as he watched Samuel cross the room. “It’s that discussion that I was asked to write my opinion on for that journal,” he said. 

“Beautiful, and it’s a good thing to do,” Samuel said, gently removing the legal pad and pen from Michael’s possession, “but I can think of better ways to relax.” 

“Oh?” Michael hummed, “and what ways are those?” 

Samuel purred and ran his hands up the planes of Michael’s chest. “Save a horse, ride an Angel,” he quipped.

“That was  _ abysmal,  _ Samuel,” Michael chuckled as Samuel removed himself from Michael’s personal space. 

“It was,” Samuel said, beginning to undress. “But funny.” 

Michael could only shake his head at his boyfriend as he watched Samuel undress. When that was accomplished, Samuel returned to the bed and decided to straddle Michael’s hips. He ran his hands up Samuel’s strong thighs, his thumbs stroking the soft skin on his lover’s inner thighs. 

“Just relax, and let me take what I need from you,” Samuel whispered as he ran his hands up and down Michael’s chest again, the leather kissing his skin. “That’s all I need you to do for me, baby. Just let me love you this way.” 

“Always,” Michael breathed as he watched, entranced. 

Samuel’s hot and tight heat suddenly engulfed Michael’s cock, and he groaned as he watched Samuel slowly glide down his length. 

It was clear that Samuel was going to take his time, and that was just fine by Michael. But there was still something wrong. Or at least, out of place for them. 

“Your hands, please,” he whispered. 

“Of course,” Samuel murmured as he came to sit firmly at the base of Michael’s cock. Slowly, with deliberate movements, he removed his gloves. He freed each finger from its confines before he pulled it off completely, making a show of it, before repeating it on the other side. He smirked as he noticed how Michael’s eyes darkened, his claws coming forth slowly, fingers elongating, tar drenched-hands blending into the low light of the room. “You really do enjoy that, don’t you?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Michael hummed. “And I always will, too.” 

“So do you have a fetish for my gloves or my hands?” Samuel asked with a teasing, knowing smile as he leaned in to kiss Michael sweetly. 

Michael hummed into the kiss, his hands running up and down his lover’s back. “You. I have a fetish for you,” he said. 

“Sap,” Samuel said affectionately as he straightened. He then slowly began to ride Michael. 

It wasn’t often that the two of them had slow, sweet, tender sex. But between the last time that they had sex, and the fact that Michael was pretty injured, it was needed. It was “I’m glad you’re alive” sex. It was “I’m glad that we’re home together” sex. It was “Let me comfort myself in knowing you’re going to be okay” sex. And that was fine by Michael. 

It also wasn’t very often that Michael wasn’t an active participant, that he just laid there and took it, that he just relaxed and let Samuel do all of the work. He was never that type of lover. But between his ribs and his ankle and all of his other injuries, plus the tiredness of being in the hospital and weariness of being injured and on any form of bedrest, he was more than happy to watch Samuel slide up and down his cock, his back arched in need as he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. 

In this moment, Samuel was a God of Sex, and Michael would gladly worship him every day for the rest of his very long, celestial life. 

It was a reunion, and it was perfect, just letting Samuel do what he needed to. As the pressure in their bellies increased and Michael could feel his balls draw up tight, Samuel increased his pace and intensity, but never stopped keeping it loving and filled with unspoken promises. He finally hunched over, his hips rocking quickly as his hand landed on Michael’s good wing. Pitch black against snow white, the hand clenched and gently pulled, causing Michael to give a cry of pleasure as he spilled into Samuel and felt Samuel cum across his stomach. 

Samuel collapsed on top of him, and the two laid there, breathing heavily, Michael’s arms wrapped around his lover. 

“I care about you,” Samuel heaved out, working on controlling his breathing. 

Michael beamed and kissed the side of Samuel’s head. “I care about you too, Samuel.” 

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. I don’t think my heart could take it.” 

“I won’t make a promise I can’t say I’d keep.” 

“Fair.” 

They didn’t even bother cleaning up, just rolled over onto their sides and curled up with each other. Naked, covered in release, the only blanket being Michael’s good wing as legs and arms and torsos intertwined, so it could’ve been difficult to see where Samuel ended and Michael began. 

The way they’ve slept together for what felt like years now, but was in reality only months. 


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael contemplates during a rainstorm

Michael sat in the window seat of his private study, nursing on a mug of Earl Grey tea with honey. Outside, a thunderstorm raged on. He curled up a little more in his bathrobe and afghan, watching the chaos of nature outside. He sipped his tea as he dived into his thoughts. 

It had been a busy and interesting ten months, with five of those months dating Samuel. His heart continued to swell whenever he thought of his boyfriend, which was quite often. 

Samuel had taught a lot of things, things that past lovers only ever dared to dream of teaching him. Samuel had taught him the importance of spontaneity, of acceptance, of peace with oneself. He opened Michael’s eyes to a whole new world of law and legal workings, of how to lose graciously and how the law was, in fact, never meant to be one size fits all. He showed Michael that, just because he lived a privileged life didn’t mean that he could turn a blind eye to the plights of those less fortunate than him, and that it was okay to help out where he could legally. It’s not like he had any political motivations. 

So, now, he took consideration of an individual’s situation, and wondered what would be the best punishment for them. Could rehabilitation work? Did they need treatment for addiction or mental illness? How likely are they to reoffend? Sure, he was still a hardass in the courtroom, but he was a considerably more compassionate asshole now. Everyone seemed to appreciate it, especially Samuel. 

And it made his work more challenging, especially since Samuel gave both paid defense attorneys and public defenders the courage to put an effort into their clients’ defense. Michael certainly didn’t mind that at all. In fact, he welcomed it. 

And Samuel… Samuel taught him not to be ashamed of his scars, of his troubles. That it was okay to talk about them and to release the negative emotions. That everything didn’t need to be penciled neatly into a little planner. Scheduling alone time was nice, but there was always something risque about Samuel pulling him into a darkened hallway in the courthouse to share a deep kiss before they went to their respective courtrooms, or the time they went to the movies and Michael impulsively dragged Samuel to the bathroom to suck him off. He wasn’t a hundred percent there, and from what Samuel told him, there was no such thing; something would always trigger something painful. But he had control on how he reacted to it. 

And the more he thought about him and Samuel, the more he felt like there was more in store for them and their relationship. 

That’s when it hit him. 

When he said “I care about you,” he was really saying “I love you.” 

_ He loved Samuel.  _

The realization came as a bit of a shock, but the more that Michael mulled the words over in his mind as he sipped his tea and lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a large clap of thunder, the more he smiled and eventually he was grinning like a lunatic. 

_ He loved Samuel.  _ Completely, utterly, absolutely loved the Cambion. He could see himself spending a lifetime or two with him, and knowing that for as long as they were together, he’d never be bored. 

His wing was almost healed, he could breathe normally again. The fountain falling on him had plagued him with nightmares of never being able to see Samuel again, but the more he thought about their future together, the more he began to plan and scheme, and the more he realized he’d be able to banish those dreams away. 

He was ready for the next step. He would just need help. He needed to know the best way to ask one of the most important questions he’ll ever ask Samuel. 

He withdrew his phone from the pocket of his bathrobe, smiling at the background, featuring a photo of Samuel smiling lazily in their bed, the picture of utter contentment. He unlocked the device and dialed his brother. 

“Lucifer.” 

“Luce, I need your help asking Samuel something important,” Michael told him. 

He could hear Lucifer smile. “You’ve come to the right brother, Mick.” 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another recusal

“All rise for the Honorable Death!”

Michael and Samuel stood and they both almost sighed in unison. This was the fourth recusal this month, and Michael had been working tirelessly on creating a way for the prosecutor’s office to screen what cases Samuel had before giving them to Michael because it was starting to get absolutely  _ ridiculous.  _

“We’re here to discuss the preliminary hearing of Alonzo of the House of Who, who is answering to charges of arson resulting in grievous bodily harm in the Third Quadrant,” the bailiff announced as everyone sat down after Death assumed his bench. 

“Are all parties available, present, and adequately prepared to conduct the proceedings of the day?” Death asked quietly. 

“No, your Honor,” Michael announced as he stood up, yet again. 

“Please, for the record, state who you are, who you represent and explain why you’re recusing yourself from the case,” Death said, looking and sounding absolutely bored. They all knew what was going to happen. It was old hat by now. 

“I am Michael of the White Feathers. I am the Grand Prosecutor and due to ethical reasons, I have to recuse myself from the case.”

“For what ethical reasons do you have to recuse yourself from this case?” Death inquired. 

Michael cleared his throat. “The ethical reason that I am recusing myself from the case dealing with the charges of Alonzo of the House of Who is the fact that I am in a romantic and sexual relationship with his attorney, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell.” 

Death turned to look at Samuel. “Is what Michael of the White Feathers proclaims true, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell?” 

“Is what that he spoke true, your Honor?” Samuel asked in an entirely too innocent voice as he stood. 

“Is it true that you are romantically and sexually involved with the Grand Prosecutor, Michael of the White Feathers?” 

“It is true, your Honor. Michael of the White Feathers and I are romantically and sexually involved with each other, and we have no plans of stopping that involvement for the foreseeable future,” Samuel replied. Michael rolled his eyes, the smile on his face growing bigger. 

“As both parties have agreed to the statement provided by the Grand Prosecutor, Michael of the White Feathers, I have no choice but to accept Michael of the White Feather’s recusal from this case. For me to not accept this recusal on these grounds would be a violation of the legal code of ethics. There will be a continuance granted for the prosecution. This preliminary hearing will be postponed for two weeks from today at nine in the morning so that the State can find a new prosecutor to try the case. If a prosecutor cannot be found, then the state will reimburse Alonzo of the House of Who the legal fees that he has already paid for Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell to represent him so that he can seek out new representation.”

“With all due respect, your Honor,” Samuel said, “This song and dance is getting incredibly old and redundant. Is there any way that we can forgo these proceedings in the future?” 

“Unfortunately, no,” Death sighed. “Not for the time being. Michael of the White Feathers is working on making it so this can stop being a weekly occurrence, but you know that these things take time. Until then, we will go through this time and time again. Court is adjourned.” 

The gavel banged and the two attorneys walked out together. 

“I’m going to start getting explicit in court,” Samuel murmured. 

“Don’t you dare,” Michael choked on a laugh. “I don’t want you to be thrown out of the courtroom for impropriety.” 

“Bullshit, I’m sure if I did it, your little thing will go through a helluva lot quicker,” Samuel grinned. 

“You’re not wrong,” Michael grinned back, “but please. Don’t.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Samuel said mockingly. 

They knew that he was going to do it, regardless of what Michael said. 

Michael just couldn’t wait until  _ that  _ recusal happened. 


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael asks Samuel an important question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this story!! I'm a little sad it's done, but here it is!! Court of Love, in all it's glory!!

“I am going to be  _ so  _ glad when this case is over,” Samuel sighed as he flopped down next to Michael. 

“Poor baby,” Michael teased lovingly. “You’re talking about Richard of the House of Roman’s appeal?” 

Samuel nodded. “He’s  _ attempting  _ to go the ineffective counsel route and saying that a private investigator that he hired has found evidence that we were in a relationship during his trial.” 

“Okay, but what the hell would be the motive be for letting you win, then?” Michael asked. 

“You know, I’m still not sure. I haven’t found that out,” Samuel said thoughtfully. “What  _ would  _ my motivation be for letting  _ you  _ win?” 

“Maybe I threatened to cut you off,” Michael teased. “Told you that you needed to let me win or else I wouldn’t have sex with you.” 

Samuel laughed. “That’s effective, but not really  _ you _ ,” he said. “You  _ want  _ me to challenge you.” 

“That’s true, I do,” Michael agreed. “I  _ thrive  _ on the challenge.” 

Samuel gave him a deadpan stare. “That was such an obvious statement, it borders on stupidity.” 

Michael laughed happily and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “I know,” he cooed. 

“I just wish I didn’t have to deal with all this shit at once,” Samuel sighed heavily as he leaned his head on Michael’s shoulder. “I’ve got to renew the lease on my apartment, the case involving Richard and his idiocy, this new case involving Dagon of the Yellow Eyes,  _ and  _ I’m helping Dad with his end of life plans. I’m fucking beat.” 

Lucifer told Michael that he would know when it was time to ask Samuel to move in with him. This was the perfect opportunity and Michael seized it. “Well,” he said, “I can possibly help you with at least one of those.” 

Samuel looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, his expression doubtful but his eyes were curious. “How?” he asked. 

Michael resisted the urge to smile. “You can let go of your lease and move in with me,” he said. “There would be less hassle, you pretty much live here anyways, and it’s closer to our offices. And it’s in a better neighborhood.” He shrugged, playing it cool. All nonchalantly. 

Samuel turned and gaped at him. “Are you actually asking me to move in with you, Michael of the White Feathers?” he asked. 

Michael turned and kissed Samuel. “I may be, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell,” he said. “Will you move in with me?” 

Samuel thought before he gave a large grin, his eyes a bright emerald green with flecks of blue in them. His happiest eye color. “Yes, Michael of the White Feathers, I will,” he said. “By the Saints of the Former Earth, I love you.” 

Michael beamed and nodded. “I love you too, Samuel of the Yellow Eyes and of the House of Campbell,” he said before kissing Samuel deeply. 

He never could have imagined how much his life would change, that first day meeting Samuel. Never could have dreamed how much knowing the young Cambion would challenge him, change him down to his core.

Never could have hoped for that spark to turn into love, and for that love to be returned so earnestly.

For, you see, one does not have a choice who one falls in love with. There is no say, and even your best defenses won’t save you from that fate. In a court of love, there is only you and Love -- and Love is your judge, jury, prosecutor, and executioner. It’s never a fair fight, and Love triumphs every time. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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